Amy's Journey

Dreaming

2012-01-16T19:49:00.004-05:00

Amazing things can happen when you believe in your dreams. I may post 364 days of negativity for the next year after this...I don't plan to, but anything can happen. But today? My gosh, everything today was gold.

To begin, it was Zachary's 11th birthday...i.e., the 11th anniversary of me becoming a mom (as his step-mom reminded me this morning). This little boy is the smartest, sweetest, kindest human being I have ever met in my life...and I'm so incredibly blown away by the fact that he's mine. His gift to this world is/will be profound, I know it. His very existence has made my life worthwhile. I told him this morning, as I cuddled him in bed at 7 a.m., that he taught me about love in ways I never knew, and I told him just how amazing he has made my life.

Zachary's wish for his birthday was not for gifts, but for hope. He asked that his friends make a donation to The Animal Rescue League of Boston and Heifer International on his behalf. His delight when they did just that was uncontainable. How do you make a momma happy? Make her child happy.

I had an interview today at a hospital that went extremely well and was a great boost to my self-esteem. In addition, I was notified today that the student member story about my career choice, which I submitted to the AARC Times (the American Association for Respiratory Care Times, the national publication for Respiratory Therapists) after one of my instructors encouraged me to write about, was being published in an upcoming issue.

We visited with friends today, and Zachary heard from friends and family alike. Nope, really, it doesn't get better than this. Dare to dream...because dreaming can make it real. Thank you God, for giving me this blessed day.

Fresh Start

2012-01-11T11:56:00.002-05:00

I went for a really nice brisk walk/jog today. Just about 3.5 miles, in about 58 minutes. No, not speedy, but considered brisk to very brisk. It kept my heart rate between 130 and 150...so that's decent. And I got on the scale today (after breakfast, after drinking water and my walk, so I expect to check it again tomorrow morning and have it be a little lower than it was now). 175 lbs. *sigh* And I am journaling my food again. If I got back to 135? I'd be happy at this point. Delighted at 125 to 130 (my lowest post-op was 117, and I don't need or want to go there again), but 135 would feel good. And the alcohol? Well, that just needs to stop, period. When it comes to exercise, I'm really good at making the unsustainable sustainable until I'm injured, and then I can't do anything. Given my knee, ankle and hip issues, I need to find something that will keep me healthy and fit without making me unable to do anything. So for now, my goal is a good healthy walk 4 times a week...maybe even 5. Here goes nothing.

The Finishing Stretch

2012-01-05T16:05:00.003-05:00

It's been a while...just over a year, actually. I completed my third semester of Respiratory Care and will graduate May 24, 2012. It's hard to believe it's close to two years since I was laid off and changed career directions. School has been an awesome challenge and has led to so much growth personally, intellectually, and to be honest, waist-line wise. Regain has become a very difficult issue for me to contend with.

After the triathlon in August 2010, when I fractured my ankle, exercise became more of a challenge than ever. Coupled with school demands, mothering demands, and financial demands, it basically came to a complete halt. I'm fat again...and it hurts in so many ways. My self-confidence has taken the biggest hit, and I find myself wanting to hide from people again...except in the professional sense because I can't. My peers (classmates) and educators, as well as patients, require my physical presence. But for all those who haven't seen me in a while? Well, I'm content to not make dates to get together.

I feel ashamed and embarrassed. I have not had my regularly scheduled annual post-op visits. I have not maintained appointments with Heart and Wellness, though I've run into Melinda a few times at Union Hospital where I do my clinical. I try to tell myself that it will be different once school is over and there is an income again, and it's not so much nose-to-the-grindstone with school work. But, I don't know if I'm just kidding myself. In my loneliness, I've resorted to both food and alcohol for comfort and companionship...and I haven't quite figured how to get myself out.

2010 Comes to a Close

2010-12-31T22:26:00.002-05:00

What a year...so many changes, so much progress, so many setbacks, and so much growth. I'm still awaiting the posting of final grades for this semester...I know I have 4 As so far...I think I have 5, but I'm not sure. I guess I'll know on Monday.

It's been a year full of love, loss, growth, challenge, and courage. My life is good...I don't know exactly where I will be in a year or two, but I know that as of right now? I'm heading in the right direction. And I am incredibly blessed with the love and generosity and support of friends and family.

I will always grapple with some things...past, present, and future...nature of the beast I suppose. I couldn't really ask for more than what I already have, though. So if 2011 brings more of the same, we'll get through and grow and thrive...because that's what we do, and who we are.

Happy new year all!

The Sweet and Innocent Heartache of a Boy

2010-10-31T12:24:00.002-04:00

Friday night, as Zachary and I were hanging out together and watching a movie, he says to me “Mom, do you WANT a husband?” I looked at him and asked him “what makes you wonder about that?” His response was “well, I just wish I had a dad who acted like a dad. I want a dad who trusts me.”

Zachary and his dad have had pretty consistent (but minimal) contact until last March. For years, Zachary protested going to his dad’s, and I encouraged him and reminded him that time with his father and siblings is important. The conflict between Z’s dad and me usually stemmed from me wanting him to be more involved in Z’s life, take a more active role, and at least spend some quality time interacting with him when he is there. For the longest time, it was basically one 8-hour period twice a month that they saw each other. And there are many other children in the mix during that time, so individual attention doesn’t really happen. Communicating with Z’s dad about Z’s feelings, experiences, etc., more often than not, was met with defensiveness. And for this past year or so, resulted in emails to me calling me crazy, a nut case, telling me sarcastically what a stellar job I was doing parenting Zachary. The anger that his dad has towards me seemed to overshadow any real concern/regard for what is best for Zachary and how to accomplish that (not fight with me).

So, when there was a significant issue this past March that resulted in an email attack on me, I said enough is enough. I let Z’s dad know that if Zachary wanted to see him, talk to him, I would wholly support that. But if Zachary chose not to go for parenting time, I would no longer force him to go. For a few more weeks, the drama continued when his dad would email me and ask if Z wanted to come that weekend. The first time I was asked to ask Z, I did. And Z was adamant that he didn’t want to go and would not be changing his mind. The second time the email request came to me, I told his dad that he really needed to call his son and talk to him directly about it. That, of course, resulted in another mud-slinging fest. He did call Zachary twice after that, and they had a short conversation.

That was back in April. Zachary has heard nothing from his dad since then. I’ve asked him if he wants to call his dad, talk to him, see him, that he can do that at any time. He’s really, really adamant that he doesn’t want that. He does say he misses his sister, and I told him that he could see her, talk to her at dad's…of course I’ve also told him he can have contact her regardless of that. He said it wasn’t worth going to his dad’s just to see her because he didn’t want to see anyone else. Ouch.

So, back to Friday night and Zachary asking if I want a husband makes all of this come back to me. I feel like a failure at relationships, and while that’s hard enough on me, it’s even harder on this little boy that I love dearly. He deserves to have a dad who acts like a dad. Who doesn't call him a liar. I know if it were my child who basically said he didn’t want to see me? I’d be telling myself “wow, I need to do something to make this better…I want to have a relationship with my son…how do I fix this?” And I’d make an effort. That isn’t happening and there isn’t really a damn thing I can do about it that I haven’t tried doing for the past 10 years already.

Do I find someone to be with, who is good to me, good to Zachary, just so that he has what he needs? Even if it means that I don’t have passion for the person? That I love him but am not in love with him? I don’t know…I really just don’t know…I know that my heart tells me never to settle…but is that selfish of me?

Brain Overload

2010-10-28T21:05:00.001-04:00

Clearly, I need to write more. If my FB status updates can't accommodate my thought process? I guess I should be writing here...if for no one else but myself, right?

Life is crazy, awesome, exhausting, great. I love school...I'm nuts with studying, helping my son with homework, trying to balance time with my studies with time with him...social life, well, I don't really have one, unless you count last weekend when I saw my brother, sister-in-law and friend for the first time since the summer, and hung out with a few other friends I haven't spent any time with in months. This weekend will be Halloween, and though we'd hoped to attend a party on Saturday, I have too much studying/work to do to attend both the party and take a few hours out on Sunday to take Z trick or treating. Did I mention that he pretty much hates me these days because all I ever do (in his mind) is study? Last night he told me that he liked it better before I was going to college because we had more time together. I reminded him that the truth is, I have more time with him now, I'm home with him more now, but the time that I'm home is often side by side, quietly spent while I study and he does something else. It's time together, but it's not at his beck and call. He's struggling with this.

There are many ploys for attention...the homework that can't be finished...the meltdowns...the brief running away he did (for 5 minutes) that he thought would "break me" and get me to allow him to watch TV/play on the computer when he hadn't yet finished a homework assignment. If nothing else, he's learning what studying hard means. And can I just say? I'm pretty happy with how I'm doing. I'm averaging A's in all of my classes...it's a full load of 5 classes, 14 credits (it really feels like it should be more than that, lol). Anyway, I love it...it's amazing, it's fascinating, thought-provoking and humbling.

Every Thursday is our Clinical day, and so I sometimes see Melinda (my dietitian) in the cafeteria as I did today. And it was today, as we were doing our assessments and billing for our patients that I actually discussed with Len and two of the other RTs (as well as my other other clinical cohorts, who already know) about my gastric bypass surgery. And there were a lot of questions...Len couldn't believe I used to be heavy. I guess I'll have to show him a picture at some point. I kind of smiled as they asked how long ago was my surgery and I told them 3.5 years. I also told them that I am at least 30 lbs. up from my lowest...and all anyone could say was "yeah, but how much better are you off now??? and those BMI charts aren't realistic." I don't hide my surgery...but I don't flaunt it either. You know, Union Hospital is closely affiliated with NSMC, where I had my bypass surgery. I don't think they really have any idea yet just how much their hospital group made a difference in my life. I guess they'll find out, won't they?

Did I mention that I'm averaging all A's in my classes? I'm planning to apply to the Honors Program after this semester. And maybe, if I'm lucky? That will mean I can apply for some scholarships for next year and owe a little less money. Good plan, right? I think so.

What A Day

2010-10-05T22:25:00.003-04:00

I spent most of today in class, and then off to the orthopedist to get direction on how to manage a stress fracture I have as a result of the triathlon in August. I'll be in a walking boot for the next month or so, and having physical therapy two times a week for the next however long, and we'll take it from there. No running until a month from now at least. But, he said I'll probably be able to run again, but I won't be running any marathons...so, we'll see what lies ahead there.

This afternoon, after my appointment, I headed over to Brooksby Farm to have dinner with many folks who have been an integral part of my WLS journey. There was video filming and photographs involved. It was a fairly tiring end to a long day...but I felt energized to sit and talk with my fellow WLS cohorts...friends, surgeons, dietitian, psychologist, with whom I had a really nice conversation about psych evals and what people expect and share and the outcome...was hugged by many a person who made me feel pretty damn warm and fuzzy about my journey. Sandy Skinner, Melinda Vaturro (who always inspires me), Annie Donovaro (who is my buddy, now and forever), Dr. B. who is just "real" and kind and warm and well, just awesome...and Jean Graham, to finally meet...several years she's read what I read...and it warms my heart to know she actually follows some of the ins and outs of my life.

These people haven't just helped me make decisions regarding my healthcare...they've helped me find me. They have illuminated the way for my future. I told Dr. Garrity tonight that my WLS didn't change who I am, it just gave me the confidence to be MORE me openly and stop hiding so much. And when we dare to be ourselves? Truly? Wholly? Anything can be. Believe it. Embrace it. Really, it is all good. Trust me on this.

Returning to School

2010-08-26T21:54:00.004-04:00

I'm feeling quite terrified about school, finances. Everything is done except for purchasing my books. I've done all the leg work, met all the pre-reqs. I never went to college full time. I was always working full time and attending school part-time...NYU and then Norwalk Community Technical College, both for nursing. And while I wouldn't say I bombed completely, I certainly didn't have great semesters all the time. Hell, even high school had some really, really low (and high) points. Some semesters were much, much better than others. And I've had the thought of "screw it, forget about school, just find yourself another job to make ends meet." But I know I won't be happy doing that.

I've made as many plans as I can for my son after school for the times I won't be here, and I'll be having to trust him to take a lot more responsibility for himself. That scares the absolute crap out of me. I know he can handle it...he's a good kid...but I'm torn with thinking that he's too young to have to handle it. That probably sounds mamby pamby, but he'll grow up soon enough. I think at times he borders on the spoiled, and that's my own fault though I'm trying to remedy that. Some things he lacks, that every child should have...and some things, he probably has in excess, more than any child needs. How do people who have raised productive, healthy, grown kids do that?

Part of my reason for wanting to change careers, aside from having wanted to pursue nursing long ago when I was a young adult is that it offers the flexibility for where I live, work, and the hours I work. Those things will be a lot more amenable to being available to my child and making ends meet. As Zachary gets older, the greater the outside influences are on him. All very normal...but I expect to be aware of them, to guide him when he needs it, and let him learn from his own mistakes (without totally effing up his life, lord knows we're all perfectly capable of doing that as adults without much assistance).

I guess I'm just rambling...I don't know how parents make it to the "finish line" with "good" kids who grown into good adults (that have always been good people)...I want mine to be one and mostly, I feel inept to manage my own life, let alone be responsible for the development of another's. There really is just a lot of crap in the world...staying focused on the good stuff? It's hard...I don't mean to sound like I'm whining...I guess I just think much too much. This isn't news to you though, if you've learned anything about me in the past few years, eh?

The Morning After

2010-08-09T09:58:00.015-04:00

Yesterday was the Witch City Triathlon. It was the first triathlon that I've ever participated in...and completed. If anyone had told me 3.5 years ago that I'd be competing in and completing a triathlon, I'd have thought they were crazy. Yet yesterday I did just that.

A few things about the "journey" of training were challenging, interesting, awesome, amazing. When I started the Cardiac Risk Reduction Program at NSMC back in March 2007, I met Brandi Dion of B&S Fitness Programs. She was the person who was mentoring/training our group in the physical fitness/exercise portion of the program. I remember thinking "wow...if I could be more like her..." And she talked about triathlons and her fitness company with her husband, Steve. Fast forward to 2010, and it's the BNS Fitness 12 week triathlon training program that I chose and participated in to prepare. And prepare us they did...coached, supported, encouraged, heard our fears and helped us work through them. And during a couple of our open water swims at Devereux Beach, I saw Heidi Rubin, who was our nurse during the Cardiac Risk Reduction Program. And Melinda Vaturro, who is still my dietitian, well, I got to hear about her goal of completing an IronMan...which by the way, she did the end of July in Lake Placid, NY. These are people who don't just talk the talk, they walk the walk. It's inspiring and affirming of the choices I make every day.

I'm struggling with my weight...it's fairly stable now, but about 25 to 30 lbs. above my lowest post-op weight. I'm trying to be kind to myself and remember where I was, and that even if I'm heavier than I'd like to be, I'm still active and healthy and living my life...and every day I continue to work on the goals to improve and keep/attain greater success.

Brandi sent us email before the race about mental preparation. Visualizing the perfect race, and the "oh shit!" race where stuff goes wrong. I did both...and then I prayed the night before and the morning of for a safe and fun race. And you know what? I got it. It was awesome. My ankle rolled just past the halfway point of the run...I was down for a few minutes and not even sure I could stand for a few minutes. But eventually, I got up and started hobbling...and eventually, thanks to endorphins and adrenalin, resumed my run and finished my race strong. I can't walk today...I still have no idea how I finished running, but I did...I finished strong with a sprint. And my friend Lea, who signed on to do this with me back in March, finished as well...we ROCK! This is my ankle this morning, the day after.

I finished 180th overall (out of 201 participants)...6th in my age group. My swim time was 15:43 (4th in my age category); T1 4:02; Bike time 50:55 (6th in my age category); T2 2:13; Run time 31:56 (8th in my age category). Total race time 1:44:51. I'm happy with that. :-)

This is Lea and me before getting completely suited up for the swim.

On the beach and ready to go.

And the ladies swim is underway.

Out of the water and heading for transition to bike.

Me heading out on the bike.

In from the ride.

Heading out for my run.

Almost to the finish line!

And this is our group that trained together after we all completed the race.

Hello...It's Been A While

2010-07-18T10:20:00.000-04:00

It's been a long, long while I guess since I've written anything here. I was laid off from my job in early May, triathlon training started literally 5 days after that, and I set the wheels in motion to start pursuing my dream of returning to school. The first month to 6 weeks after being laid off was a huge flurry of activity. Studying, getting paperwork together, figuring out finances, training. I'm honestly not sure how I'd have done all of the training that we started off with if I hadn't been laid off.

After getting all the school stuff mostly set (I still have to get started on my Hep B immunizations, the first of three is tomorrow, and I still have one class to take to get my professional rescuer basic life support training in before I can start my clinicals with September classes). Oh, I guess I didn't mention that I'm getting out of technology and going into health care. Many moons ago, I was a nursing student...but I never finished. All of the nursing programs were filled for the fall, so I evaluated my other options. And after much consideration, I decided to pursue respiratory therapy. As such, come September 8th, I will be a full-time respiratory care student. It will take two years to complete. How will I financially get through those two years, or at least the second year, has yet to be seen. My mantra these days is "whatever happens, I'll deal with it." And I trust that I will...though I don't always know how, I know that come hell or high water, somehow I get through. Always have, always will. I'm competent that way...one of the few ways in which I feel competent most of the time.

I'm struggling with flare-ups of my depression. We're working on medication changes to help, but so far they either make me hyper or fatigued and lacking in motivation, with no real appreciable effect on my weepiness which comes in waves. My dreams are still a chronic issue, and I'm quite frankly tired of remembering them.

Training for a triathlon (the Witch City Tri, August 8th, 2010 is the one I'm doing) is this weird kind of experience it seems. It starts with great enthusiasm, followed by great self-doubt, and eventually, a desire to just be done already...and if you're lucky? Another surge in motivation just before. I'm personally hoping for that last surge as I'm floundering with three weeks to go. I questioned this past week if I'd be able to even keep going because I was slacking so much. I nixed the medication I had been taking for 10 days as a result. It was clearly not helping...and so, on Tuesday when I see the doctor again, we'll be back to the drawing board.

In addition to what I guess are "normal" ebbs and flows with training, a few other incidents have caused me to have increased fears. Open water swims were the first challenge for me. I felt disoriented, nauseas, fatigued, and panicked. After some thought/introspection, I realized that the panic I felt was identical to that which I felt when I was 9 years old and almost drowned in Lake Michigan. Ok, awareness helped tremendously and so the next swims were much improved. I'm still learning what does and doesn't help me in the water, and I now feel confident that I can get through it. There was also a gentleman who drowned in the swim portion of a triathlon that same day. It added to the fear. Then, at the Nahant Mini Tri, Michelle (our swim coach) had a collision with an SUV that left me fairly traumatized. I didn't ride my bike for a little over two weeks (until yesterday). The fear of something happening to me, who will take care of my child, well, it just started getting the better of me.

I'm so incredibly grateful for the tremendously supportive network of friends and coaches I have. One of our coaches for the triathlon training is Brandi Dion...who I met through the Cardiac Risk Reduction Program that I was mandated to attend at NSMC before my surgery. In the course of our training, I've seen Heidi Rubin (who was my nurse for that program as well), heard about Melinda Vaturro's fitness goals, and basically realized that all the people I've worked with, live what they teach. Their day-to-day lives embrace the very things they teach to their patients. That was incredibly validating as a life experience to me.

I'm struggling with food, weight regain, etc. I'm still fit. But, I'm also about 30 lbs. up (at least weight check, I'm afraid to get on the scale right now) from my lowest weight. And it's disheartening. I have to repeatedly remind myself of where I am compared to where I was...but it still just isn't good enough. I want to be where I was...and something is making my evening eating patterns really hard to manage. But, so far, despite all the signs at various times that I might just quit, I haven't yet. I still food journal. I still struggle. Guess I always will.

So, more to follow...pictures of tri day, I'm sure. :)

What A Week

2010-05-13T06:32:00.004-04:00

Talk about feeling the gamut of emotions. I've been hyper, optimistic, elated, sad, numb, lonely, depressed, weepy...you name it, I've felt it. I spent last week in a flurry of activity. Unemployment, school, triathlon training beginning, and a road trip to visit with friends. This week has been more of settling into my reality. Studying for my TEAS exam (on May 24th), actually beginning training sessions, sitting down with Tammy and figuring out "the plan" financially, and working on things I need to get in order for that. I still need to do research on grants and scholarships for school.

I feel good being a very active participant in making my future what I want it to be...but I have my moments of doubt and fear that it's realistic. The self-talk to pull myself out of those moments before I start to dwell is rampant...much better than the alternative. But yesterday, well, at least half of my day was just overwhelming to me emotionally. Baggage from the past gets stirred up by circumstances of the present. Without dealing with it, it just continues to weigh upon me and increases my doubt and negativity.

Over the past several years since my mom died, my brother and I have become much closer. It's taken a tremendous amount of effort on his part to earn my trust, admittedly. There's a lot of history there, and some of it we talk about. Yesterday, we talked about our shared history with our parents/family. I have therapy today, which is good...it will give me an opportunity to process all that we talked about. One thing he said to me yesterday, that kind of took me by surprise, was that he only dealt with the harshness of one parent, our mom; I got it from both parents, and so it's no wonder really that I grew up to feel like no one in this world is ever going to actually love me unconditionally. Neither of the two people that we expect to do this for us growing up, did this for me. We were both neglected and abused...I just never really made the connection that it was different for us as kids...that one of us got more of it than the other, until yesterday.

I've doubted many of my own memories over the years. Wondered if I remembered things correctly, if I was exaggerating things in my mind. Every now and then, I get a nugget of validation from someone in my life who witnessed it all, experienced it along with me, even if only in seeing it from afar. They validate me...they assure me, it was real. I have tears in my eyes remembering what my brother told me yesterday. It is going to take a very, very special man to appreciate the woman that I am and all I have to offer. Maybe someday I will actually believe that in my heart. Until that day, I'm grateful for people who believe in me on my behalf.

Re-Inventing Me

2010-05-05T21:35:00.002-04:00

Every single day, we have the opportunity to repeat what we did the day before that worked well, and change what we did that didn't work out as we'd like. Every single aspect of our life...our food, our weight, our exercise habits, our talk to ourselves and others, our thoughts, our jobs, our attitudes on life, love, sex, everything. Each day we awake, we have the opportunity to re-invent who we are and become closer to that person we want to be.

Tomorrow, I will be laid off for the first time ever in my life. I'm almost 42 years old and I've never been fired of laid off before. There is a part of me that is sad and questioning what I did with the past 20+ years of my life. But, I'm taking advantage of this change and switching careers. I'm getting out of technology. I plan to return to school and eventually work in a field that, to me, has profound meaning in my life by helping others to live and breathe. I'm getting into health care. I'm trying not to mope, be sad or stagnate about the stunned loss I'm about to experience in employment. And instead, turn my lemons into lemonade.

What situation in your life can you turn around your perspective on? I challenge you to try and see things differently...more positively...as a new door opening instead of one just closing. I know it's cliche, but alas, it still has value.

Time to Kick Some Butt

2010-02-01T10:01:00.004-05:00

My own, that is. It's been a while since I've written...for many, many reasons. The holiday season was very busy with family, friends, and travel. Now that things are a bit more settled, it's probably good for me to write about some of it...been thinking about writing for a while but well, some of what's been going on is really a struggle for me and "talking" about it publicly, well, even more difficult.

Along with the holidays came extra food, not great food choices all the time, and plenty of alcohol...along with lack of regular exercise. There have been so many stresses lately as well. Continued layoffs and restructuring/reorganization at work, uncertainty of my future here, issues with parenting and co-parenting, loneliness...and how to cope with all of it.

I'm handling things but admittedly, at the end of the day, when the child is in bed, it's a bit overwhelming if I think about it all...and so, I've needed some distance from the emotions. It's impossible to shut them off, but I've definitely found that a drink (or two, or three, or four) can definitely blunt their impact on me and make them more tolerable. Not a good habit to get into, for so many reasons. And I'm up about 15 lbs. from where I'd like to be.

I've discussed the alcohol and food consumption in counseling, with my PCP and with Pat...and I see Melinda this week. Do I need substance abuse counseling? No, I don't think so...but I do think I need to get a grip and regain the consistency of good habits I've had before now. So, I've been honest with all of my medical professionals, friends, supports...and I'm trying to regain some balance...with food, with alcohol, with exercise. I have a triathlon to train for. I cannot return to where I was...it's simply not an option.

My clothes aren't fitting as they should. I do not feel good about my body. I am not taking care of my body the way I should be. So I'm reminding myself why it is I had this surgery...so I would live to see my son grow up...raise him. I need to hold onto that...remember it...and tackle the tasks that lead to that goal one by one. And tomorrow night, Martha and I will attend the celebration for being 2009 Road Race Series Finishers...maybe that will help my motivation...remembering the goal we accomplished together.

The reason I do this...all of it...is this beautiful little boy. This picture was taken on Christmas Eve Day, in North Carolina while we were visiting with friends for the holidays. He's the best.

North Shore YMCA 2009 Road Race Series Finishers!!!

2009-12-05T13:42:00.004-05:00

Today, Martha and I ran the last of our planned 5Ks for 2009. We had to complete five of the twelve scheduled races in order to become series finishers...and we did just that. Who would have thought, three years ago, weighing in at over 250 lbs., either of us could do this? Not us...I know that. Way to go Martha! Thank you for being my friend and running partner for this series. We can do it all again next year. ;-)

Pre-race Picture:

Post-race Picture (I lost my antlers right at the start):

The Daily Struggles

2009-11-23T12:21:00.003-05:00

It's been quite a while since I've written. I'm struggling. There is no doubt about it.

But today, I'm taking a new approach to dealing with difficult feelings. I still have issues with wanting to eat when I'm lonely, sad, bored. Work has been pretty sucky. Interpersonal relationships (friendships and romantic relationships alike) feel very, very precarious or non-existent. The holidays this year actually have me thinking about and missing my mom. She passed away 3.5 years ago. She loved the holidays. Pie baking, cooking and holiday shopping brought her a great deal of joy. Most of the time, I do NOT have warm and fuzzy feelings about her...so I'm actually relishing that I am having positive memories and thoughts, though it's sort of bittersweet.

Anyway, I've not been eating as well as I should, nor exercising as much as I should. I can recognize that this is counterproductive to helping me stay physically and mentally at the top of my game.

So this morning on my drive into work, I found myself thinking. Then I decided that it would have more value if I actually said the things I was thinking out loud to myself. I told myself that this is going to be a good week with food and exercise...that I am going to meet my goals and be on track...that my body does not need the abuse or neglect of me misfeeding it and not exercising it...and my mind doesn't need the crap thoughts that come with making those bad choices. I want to be happy. I want to be healthy. I want to feel good physically and emotionally. I'm in control of many of the things that help me to be happy and healthy. So, that's my affirmation for this minute, this morning, this day, this week.

Weight loss surgery is definitely a tool for our arsenal against obesity, but it is no cure. I need to maintain focus on how much better I FEEL when I make those good choices. When I eat like crap and don't exercise I beat myself up...because I'm taking away from myself huge positive reinforcements of the good choices. Focusing on the positive is always a much, much better coping skill than dwelling on the negative of how I've failed or will fail. I have to always remember that my body and mind count on me to take care of them and make the best choices for them.

My attitude this year is holidays be damned! I am up 9 lbs. from where I want to be. And it terrifies me. What if 9 becomes 15? Does 15 beg to become 20? I can't go there. I simply can't.

Setting goals (daily, weekly, monthly, yearly) is a huge part of staying forward focused and not dwelling on my past mistakes. The date for my first sprint triathlon was posted today. July 25, 2010. I'm doing this with three other ladies, two of whom actually live in other states, and one of whom is also an RNYer. My Philly friend told me about the date today...and I needed that. It's concrete, it's real, and staying in shape physically and mentally is the ONLY way I'm going to be able to complete that goal. This year's goal was to be a 2009 Road Race Series finisher...I will complete that goal with my last 5K of the year on December 5th. Martha and I will complete it together. YAY US!

This is it. This is the battle. Daily. Weekly. Monthly. Yearly. One life...it's up to me to make the best of it with my choices.

The "Easy" Way Out?

2009-09-24T09:36:00.009-04:00

My weight loss surgery was was almost 27 months ago. Most days, I feel absolutely great. I don't really have many food intolerances as long as I stick to moderation as my guide. Every once in a great while, for some reason unknown to me, food gets "stuck" in my stoma (the opening between my pouch and my small intestine). The result is that I have a great deal of pain just beneath my breast bone...it feels like something is cutting me from the inside out. And then the foaming starts...and eventually, if I'm lucky, the puking will start to get rid of whatever is stuck. On rare occasion, taking papaya enzyme will help it pass through without vomiting. But, as was the case yesterday, no dice. The episode lasted a full hour yesterday. I have only had one that was worse, about a year ago...and that resulted in having an endoscopy to make sure everything was ok with my pouch (which it was).

For me, this kind of vomiting is really forceful and violent...it feels like I will actually purge my pouch itself. And it leaves my eyes with broken capillaries all around. So, for anyone who thinks that weight loss surgery is the "easy" way out, think again. I have it pretty good...this happens very rarely for me these days. For some, it's more often. Even with this as occasional disturbance, my gastric bypass surgery was still the right choice for me. This is what my eyes look like the day after. Blech.

Third 5K Done

2009-09-20T16:26:00.007-04:00

Yesterday was the worst race I've ever run...for so many reasons. When I woke up yesterday morning, I felt really shaky...like blood sugar issues shaky. I hadn't ever felt like that pre-race. Having consumed more than normal amounts of carbs the night before, I suspect I was having aftereffects of late dumping. I strayed from my normal routine pre-race as well. I had my coffee like I always do, but I had a high protein breakfast of some turkey jerky and then, for carbs, a banana. I had two FRS chews just before the race as well as a 20 oz. bottle of water because the jerky was so salty. I felt parched. My optimism had been high...I had great hopes for completing the race in my best time ever...under 30 minutes. I even aspired to make 28:30. I had a goal. I've never set one that was quite that specific for myself in a race...just wanted to finish and be faster than the time before.

It was a beautiful fall morning...very cool and crisp and brilliant blue sky. I was mentally optimistic, but physically feeling really off. At the start, I took off in a sprint. And within the first mile I had to start walking. I felt blood in my throat from coughing/wheezing. With the the colder weather, it probably would have been wise to use my inhaler that morning, but I didn't think of it. And so, my airways did not respond well at all. Next, the abdominal cramping started. I kept trying to run, and did complete the first mile in under 10 minutes. But by mile 2, that abdominal cramping turned into something I knew would be really bad. I needed to find a rock or tree to escape behind, or a bathroom desperately or there was going to be a really horrifying incident for me. I scoped out all of the houses as I ran, looking for someone outside (it was after all, only after 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning). Finally, there was a woman who had been out in her yard headed back inside. I ran over to her (after Martha passed me on the route, asking if I was okay and I said no, but I didn't need help but I did need a bathroom, to keep on going). In the most pleading voice and face I had, I asked if I might use her restroom as my stomach was not cooperating with me during this race. She skeptically looked me over, apparently decided I was harmless and indeed in trouble, and said "let me get my husband out of there." And so, I polluted some poor strangers' bathroom in the lovely town of Rowley. Thank heavens for Febreze. I thanked them profusely and they graciously said not to worry, they had a daughter who was a runner and so they understood. And then, I was on my way.

Within 1 minute of being back on the race route though, I was uncertain I would complete the entire race without yet another stop (or accident in lieu of a stop). But yes, I did indeed finish the race. I had my worst time ever: 38 minutes 10 seconds. But, I did indeed finish. Yesterday I felt so physically awful (I wheezed for the rest of the day even with inhaler use, and my stomach is still not quite right today), that I told myself I was never going to run another race. I was done.

Today, I feel a little better...and I decided to write a little about it. And after talking to Martha this morning, who by the way completed the race in her best time yet--woo hoo Martha!!!--well, we have two more this year to complete to be 2009 Road Race Series Finishers. That was our goal, and we will make it. I'm not sure it could get worse for me than it was yesterday anyway...well it probably could, but I'm not going there.

As for yesterday, I can literally say "shit happens." It does...and then you move on.

Monday, Monday

2009-09-14T12:57:00.004-04:00

*sigh* So where do I even begin? It's been almost a month since the last time I wrote. I think there's been so much swirling about in my head and in my life that I've just been unable to put it all into words.

My third 5K is coming up this Saturday. Martha and I will run it together and then, in October, we'll run the Witch City 5K. My dear friend Melissa will be visiting from Iowa at that time, and she will be running it with us as well. One thing that I would have never anticipated being a benefit of having WLS is meeting so many other truly awesome people who understand the kinds of struggles I've had with food, weight, body and self-esteem issues. I met Melissa through the RNY board on OH. Melissa has inspired me since I was a pre-op and it was from her that I got the idea to take monthly pictures of my weight loss progress. Over the past few years, we've gotten to be very close, and we struggle in some very similar ways with eating properly, exercise, how much we eat, being people pleasers, etc. I have the distinct advantage of being older though and so, I have more wherewithall to let go of the people-pleasing stuff. But hey, with me coaching her she'll learn. ;-)

Zachary and I took a vacation out to Iowa to visit with Melissa and her husband. We spent several wonderful days relaxing, talking, laughing and just generally enjoying our time together. We have similar issues with reactive hypoglycemia post-op and though she says she has bad gas issues, I far surpass her in this area...I know, something you all wanted to know. For the record? I was just as bad pre-op...surgery did nothing to make me worse.

I've been dating here and there, but I think I'm going to take a good break from it for a while. I don't really care for setting myself up to be hurt, and I don't really like feeling like I'm hurting others when I'm not interested...and so, a break it is. Besides, my mind has really been rather preoccupied with thoughts and feelings for someone. Until I can really get my head and heart around that, I'll just continue to compare everyone else to him and they'll fall short. I've thought about both how lonely it is to be alone/without a partner, and also how glad I am at times that I have no one else I'm responsible/accountable to. What a double-edged sword.

It's a Monday, and there's been a lot of sadness/heavy heartedness/worry at work. A coworker lost his mom over the weekend...he'd already lost his dad. So at a pretty tender age (he's still under 30) he's been orphaned. It makes me sad...I was young, but he is even younger. Add to that a very close coworker (and friend) of mine has a aneurysm. Hopefully he'll be fine but I'm definitely thinking about him and worrying.

Add to that family stuff that just makes me nutty, school starting (and I can't believe I have a child in third grade already...where did the time go???) and well, I just really feel like the Earth is spinning way too fast and my life with it.

I'm struggling with about 7 lbs. that I'd really like to get off to be back where I'd like between 118 and 120. My clothes all still fit, but it's irritating to me. Staying on track is hard...exercising the majority of the week is hard. I still log my food every day...even when I haven't eaten as I should. In an ideal day, I consume about 1600 calories, 45 to 60 g of fat, between 180 and 220 g of carbs, 40 to 50 g of fiber and between 110 and 120 g of protein. Additionally, I drink between 100 and 120 oz. water daily (typically...sometimes it's more). I seem able to stick to this for 2 or 3 days at a time...and then I have some kind of transgression. I'm trying to do better in terms of the things I eat during the transgressions and at least keeping them protein focused. The resulting blood sugar drops from less protein-dense choices aren't worth it. I think that part is finally getting through to me.

I watch diet ads and fads and was thinking this morning that it's really kind of weird to not be looking for a "diet" to lose weight with. That I know all I really need to do is stay focused on eating properly. There will never be another "diet" (I thought this as I was watching some infomercial for something called Slim 6 I think). It was the first time I really had that realization. Diets are done for me. This is just how I live...eating the RIGHT way. But that is hard. It sounds so simple, and it is...but it isn't easy. And I wonder if worrying about these 7 lbs. is really worth the agonizing I'm doing...but I'm afraid that if I say "eh, it's just 7 lbs." that it will become 10, then 15, and then 20...and I simply cannot go there.

I think I need to resume setting goals for myself weekly, monthly, or whatever...and one of them needs to be to have a daily meditation practice. I bet it would help "slow down" the spinning that feels so out of control sometimes.

The Wearying Journey…Some Days

2009-08-18T09:05:00.004-04:00

I’ve been plagued with nightmares for as long as I can remember (way, way back to early childhood). They seem to be somewhat cyclical in terms of when they come. I’ll go for several weeks without any and then, I’ll hit a patch of a few weeks where they are every night, sometimes several in a night. Last night’s dream was a doozy. I’ve shared it with my brother and with three very close friends who were happy to offer their ears and support (thank you Andy, Laura, Dave and Martha). The details are not as complete here as I remember the dream…it would simply be too much to write it all out. Consider my memory of it to be about as complete as a written screen play, complete with costume direction, movement direction, etc. I can remember just about all of it in great detail. I’m a little nervous, I admit, about letting people who don’t know me in person into the psyche of my dreams, but well, the writing that will follow the dream may make more sense if you read all the meat of the dream first. I dream frequently about my mom…and they are sadly never pleasant dreams.

The Dream:
I dreamed that my mom told me to get out (of the house) the day before Thanksgiving. Family friends from NYC picked me up, we drove down to NYC and so I spent a couple of hours with them. Then they dropped me off at the bus terminal. I was there at the terminal trying to figure out how to get back to Boston. I had my cell phone and a credit card on me and nothing else. There was a bullet train that would get me to Boston fastest. In the line in which I was standing to purchase my ticket was this wretched adult daughter talking horribly to her father. She was really being a horribly selfish and hateful person to him, and he was being nothing but kind. I finally decked her because I couldn’t stand it anymore. That of course landed her on her ass, all the while people agreeing (including her father) that she had it coming to her. She got up, I apologized to her for my actions and she said she was fine, but wanted me fined. So the train place was going to fine me $250. I was trying desperately to find someone in authority to speak to about this fine and how it could be argued/fought. Somehow, I managed to get some street heroin and I was all prepared to actually shoot it up. Don't ask, I have NO friggin' clue how this got in my dream...I have never purchase or done or even seen heroin. I get on the train, worried I'll get caught with the drugs. There are two trains. I almost miss the first one I'm supposed to take which takes me to the second bullet fast one. But I do somehow make it to the second train. On the second train is an old friend (but someone I am no longer friends with) with whom I chat, as well as (of all people) Steve Martin. Yes, Steve Martin. And he’s not being goofy but rather being a very serious and upstanding person. I explain to them both all that has transpired with being thrown out of the house, the woman I hit, the fines, etc. I also explain that I have this heroin on me. Steve was actually admonishing me from using the heroin, telling me that if I bought it off the street from someone I didn't know, well, I was basically looking at junk and I'd probably end up dead. With all certainty now I know I must get rid of this stuff without letting any of it get into my (or anyone else's) body. So we're trying to find an open window to chuck it out of on this bullet fast train concerned that some kid in the general population will get their hands on it. I end up getting to Boston and I miss my commuter train to Salem by 10 seconds (I can see it pulling away). It is the night before Thanksgiving and the next train isn't for 3 hours. It was the 8 p.m. train I missed. Next one isn’t until 11 p.m. Trying to figure out the train schedule is impossible, they have all these kiosks that have touch screens to walk you through where you’re going, time of day, etc. At one point, all of them are broken or useless or in some language I can’t switch to English from despite pressing the language touch part of the screen many times. I get French, Spanish, Portuguese. No English. There's a train leaving sooner (a special) but the doors are closed. It's packed. A man tries to jump into this (moving) train through an open window and launches himself so hard we're all convinced that he has shot himself out the OTHER window on the other side of the train. And we’re quite certain he’s probably dead from being hit by another train on the track on the other side of the train he tried to get on. The father of the woman I hit shows up. He’s with his wife and other two daughters…the snotty daughter is nowhere to be found. He now looks like Al Roker when he was obese (he was a slim, white, older businessman earlier in the dream). He hands me his dry cleaning ticket asking me to pick up his stuff tomorrow (makes no sense, I know), says he has no money to pay for it and no account, so I should ask them to send him a bill. I'm wondering where I'm going to go when I get back to Salem. I can’t go to mom's obviously, which is where Andy (my brother) and Elizabeth (my sister-in-law) will be. But I call my brother and ask if he’ll pick me up in Salem. He says of course he will, he’d be happy to and it doesn't matter what time it is that I get in. I'm hoping I will figure out where to go from there, but I'm adamant about not seeing mom on Thanksgiving after this crap she pulled, and my brother understands completely.

That is the story of the dream. I’ve been in a therapy a really, really long time...the past 29+ years. I spent two of those years inpatient. I work very hard to accept and move on. And then I have dreams like this that make me wonder what I have worked so hard for. It was 6:15 this morning when I got up and thought “I am emotionally exhausted already.” These dreams leave me in quite a funk. Thankfully, talking about them/writing about them has actually helped distance myself a bit from that funk of feelings and see them a little more clearly.

But honestly, there are days when I wonder if this journey is worth it. No, I’d never give up my life…I’m way, way beyond that. But when I work this hard in therapy, on myself, to process things, do the right thing, accept, forgive, grow stronger, and then the events in my life cause an overwhelming sense of rejection, abandonment, unworthiness, lostness, anger, well, it makes me wonder if I’ve really made the progress I think I have. My brother, trying so hard to assure me he’s not meaning to sound cliché but wants me to know that in comparison to 20 years ago, I’ve come a long way baby. And you know what the bright spot of this dream was (yup, there really was one)? That in this dream, my brother was there for me. He understood. He would pick me up, regardless of the time. He was there for me. I don’t know…maybe I’m not so alone after all…

Another One Down

2009-08-06T22:51:00.004-04:00

Martha and I completed our second 5K in the North Shore YMCA 2009 Road Race Series. We have three more to complete to be considered series finishers, and we will do that. It was a challenging run for me. I had some very unexpected oral surgery on Tuesday, including two extractions (one of a wisdom tooth) that left me with a baseball stitch to hold the edges of the gum with a little bit of tension over the big gap left. But, that stitch loosened up pretty well today.

The run went fine...until the last half mile or so and then my gum and jaw was kind of throbbing. I was really glad to finish...and actually cut 2.5 minutes off my time. YEAH! I think the last race I ran, with the sinus issue and pain medication, it really slowed me down. I made sure I had only taken Tylenol in the past 24 hours before the race this time. So, despite the discomfort, I still came out faster than last time.

I'm having a really difficult time though viewing pictures of my body. Thankfully, at least one of the pictures shows the muscle definition of my thigh. If not for that, I'd feel like I was looking at a porker picture of myself. I feel like I look really chubby and fat...and it's very, very disconcerting. I'm not even sure what to do about it, to be honest. I guess that will be a topic for discussion in therapy. *sigh*

Anyway, here's the pic of my awesome thigh muscles...and of me and Martha after we finished the race. :) She's my running buddy and co-conspirator.

Two-Year Follow-Up Appointments

2009-07-21T19:00:00.001-04:00

Today I had appointments with both Heart and Wellness and Dr. B. I also just returned from my first ever vacation without my child since he was born. For three days (and part of a fourth due to flight cancellations and delays), I was responsible for no one but myself. I think I remarked on this many times Friday night while we were sitting around talking. Even if Zachary were to become sick, I'd not be the person to call to do something about it because I was two airplane flights away in Texas.

I went to San Antonio to visit with some truly fantastic friends I've made as a result of the past two years since my weight loss surgery. I'd have never met these folks if I hadn't had gastric bypass surgery. We went tubing on Saturday in the Texas heat and sunshine and had an absolutely fantastic time, eating, drinking, and relaxing. Can you see where I'm going with this? Me, the person who still food journals every day, who still weighs and measures her portions, who exercises three to four times per week, let all that go for a few days. And let it go I did, believe me. I didn't eat or drink anything that made me feel sick (well, unless you count the very bready sandwich I had on the flight home that resulted in a horribly low blood sugar episode just as we were about to deplane in Boston...I was glad for the glucose tabs I had on-hand).

I did not weigh or measure anything this entire weekend...including my body. But oh could I feel it. The resulting bloat left my pants and shorts feeling snug and my tummy feeling pretty bloated as well. The scale this morning was not at all kind to me...but I earned that. I know it's a result of the choices I made. Part of me contemplated rescheduling my appointments with Heart and Wellness and Dr. B. I felt ashamed and embarrassed that my weight would be up and that is the number they would have recorded for me at two years post-op. Not necessarily an accurate number of where I am typically, but rather where I am pursuant to a three-day free-for-all with food and drink. I kept my appointment...I made my disclaimers. And today, I ate on plan; tomorrow, I will return to the gym.

This was my vacation. I didn't make horrible food choices really...I just probably consumed more than I should. There was more grazing than there should be. I don't usually graze at all. In talking to Dr. Benedetto today while I was waiting for my Dr. B, we chatted about how this is "normal"...people go on vacation...and if they eat or drink too much, they know they have a few lbs. to take off when they return home. It's not end of the world stuff. And strangely enough, I have some mild anxiety about losing the lbs. I put on, but I'm not at all feeling panicked. My pants and shorts will once again fit well. The bloat will be gone and my muscle definition will show better again. And overall, I'll feel better physically as a result of consistent good eating choices.

Overall, Heart and Wellness and Dr. B. were both happy with where I am…probably happier with me than I am. For me, I'm going to continue to stay on track now and take their satisfaction with where I am as being an indication that really, I am ok. Maybe I am even better than ok. I'm adjusting to life post-obesity. There will be (and have been) a mess of firsts...boyfriends, dating, intimacy, 5Ks, vacations. I will just keep doing my best to plow through them and keep my chin up.

Two Years...And Counting!

2009-07-09T06:21:00.000-04:00

Two years ago today, I had RNY gastric bypass surgery at NSMC with Dr. Buckley. It's really hard to believe it's already been two years. But what is even harder for me to believe is that I have essentially maintained my weight loss for almost a full year. I honestly have no idea when the last time was I could claim that. Maybe never.

You see, I've lost weight many, many times in my life. Losing wasn't so much the issue, but maintaining that loss has been. I'm still afraid. And if I am going to be honest, I worry that in 3 years, 5 years, 10 years, I won't have stayed here. It scares the crap out of me because I don't ever want to go back there again. It took all the courage I could muster to have my surgical consult with Dr. B and consider weight loss surgery. The questions that went through my mind were "what if this is no different then every other means I've tried to lose weight?" "What if I lose all the weight yet again, but I can't keep it off...just like every other time...I can't go through that heartbreak again." And that is truly what it was...heartbreak.

I did all the "right" things before having weight loss surgery to lose weight. I ate properly, I exercised regularly and at the right intensity, and I was in counseling to deal with the emotional aspects. I lost the weight. And I subsequently regained it, too. It was like there was this switch in my head that would just one day, after many months of carrying on just fine, flip, and I'd no longer be able to control the eating, no longer have the gumption to kick my butt into gear to go to the gym. It took a lot of heartache to get to a point where weight loss surgery was even something I would consider in my mind...let alone pursue.

I have no regrets about my surgery. I actually never have. I didn't go through buyer's remorse. I didn't grieve the loss of food because in my opinion, I didn't lose anything...I can still have whatever I want, but the quantity and frequency has changed. If I overindulge, which I sometimes do, my body reminds me how awful that feels and reinforces how much better I feel when I eat the way I should on a regular basis.

I think I'll probably always wage this battle with food. But it is my great hope (and expectation) that as more time passes, my relationship with food will become more and more healthy (note I did NOT say normal...we are an obese nation primarily...the "norm" is not healthy). Check out the American Heart Association's Overweight and Obesity -- Statistics document. I'll take my altered anatomy and be abnormal, thank you. :) For many more years to come, I expect. :-)

Common Misconceptions About Weight Loss Surgery

2009-06-24T13:28:00.001-04:00

Following the Channel 7 News piece, someone posted a comment about how weight loss surgery is not a panacea for obesity and that non-surgical methods should be tried first. People who have had weight loss surgery can also fail. This person is absolutely correct in these statements.

One thing that wasn't covered in the under 2 minute clip on Channel 7 News were the specifics of the evaluation process when considering bariatric surgery. The program at NSMC, as well as many insurance companies, require a diet history be provided that shows repeated attempts to lose weight through non-surgical means. I can't speak for all bariatric surgery programs, but in my experience talking with other weight loss surgery patients, showing this kind of history, and the failed attempts at maintaining weight loss long-term, is a given in meeting the criteria for having weight loss surgery. Anyone reading my blog will know that I have no misconceptions about, nor do I ever present weight loss surgery, as a cure-all for obesity. If the lifestyle changes, including diet and exercise, are not maintained post-operatively, regain is common.

So then a person might ask "well then why even have weight loss surgery if you still have to do all the same things you'd have to do without it?" For me, it was because everything else I had done, I had failed at. I was actually quite terrified about failing even with weight loss surgery. But, what the tool of my surgery has helped me to learn is when to stop eating. I had a bottomless hunger before surgery. With my pouch, I do NOT have that...I have very clear, physically palpable limits set on what I can eat. I could exceed those on a regular basis and defeat my tool. I could eat the wrong foods and defeat my tool. I did not make the decision to have surgery lightly or without having exhausted every other non-surgical means of weight loss available to me first. A competent medical team, like the one I have at NSMC, would not in good conscience consider performing surgery on a person without them showing those other efforts to have failed first.

Link to Channel 7 News Story

2009-06-23T17:38:00.001-04:00

It aired today, and here is the link.

Health Expo Gastric Bypass Story

I know that realistically, it is a great piece. Emotionally all I seem able to do is tear myself apart for how I look. Dysmorphia really is crappy.

Quick Update on the Channel 7 Health and Fitness Expo News Piece and Life

2009-06-18T07:08:00.001-04:00

The North Shore medical center piece on gastric bypass, which will include the coverage/interview Melina/Charles from Channel 7 did a few weeks ago with me and Zachary (for the Boston Health and Fitness Expo), will be airing on Tuesday, June 23rd. It will air during the 4 p.m. newscast on Channel 7, and again during the 10 p.m. newscast on the CW56. :-) I'm looking forward to seeing how it all came together.

On other subjects, the school year is almost over for Zachary. YEAH! We've been going to his baseball games, practices, riding our bikes and getting together with friends for play dates. We'll be doing some traveling this summer as well, including an adult trip for mommy to visit friends and go tubing...YES!!! And then there is a trip for both me and Z to visit some other friends out west.

I learn more and more about people, what to trust, believe, and question each and every day. And I'm working on accepting the fact that I'm just an overthinker and that causes my anxiety to sometimes spin out of control. I'm learning to manage it better (I think? I hope?) with the wonderful support of friends and professionals alike. I'm a lucky lady in so very many ways.

I'm feeling a bit more in control of my eating habits again as well. I basically have sworn off of eating out for a little while...until I can make better choices when doing so. I tend to splurge when eating out, and then perpetuate the consumption excess when I've already done the damage. This is my life...I'm going to make this work for me, period, end of story. Failure is not an option.

My body feels good and strong again. The headaches I was plagued with for almost 2 months have finally abated. I'm not getting them daily or even weekly anymore. That is an absolute blessing, no doubt. My knees have been more painful lately...I'm not sure why considering I started taking glucosamine/chondroitin in hopes of helping them about 2 months ago. But so far, they are worse and not better. I've been doing the elliptical for exercise but not running. I need to attempt a run again very soon before the next 5K Martha and I run...to make sure I can still make it.

I haven't been to our support group since I think February? Too long. Too many things were planned/coming up that interfered. I'm looking forward to going on Monday night and reconnecting with that group as well. I'm also coming up on my 2 year anniversary of my surgery. Hard to believe it's been 2 years almost, and almost a full year maintaining as well. I'm not sure I could think of a time in my life when I maintained my weight within 5 lbs. for an entire year. It's sort of a bizarre but great concept, I must admit. One of those little "WOWs" we have post-op.

Feeling Like a Fraud

2009-05-26T06:51:00.007-04:00

I've definitely been struggling lately...with food...with self-image...with confidence. This Thursday, some folks will be here doing some taping for an interview for the Channel 7 Health & Fitness Expo. And it will, from what I understand, focus on my blog and its impact on the WLS community and such. In some ways, I feel like I'm being held up as some kind of success story to which I don't feel entitled. I'm almost 2 years post-op. I still food journal every day...even the horrible days. I still strive to get to the gym 4 times a week, but it's been more like 3 lately. I still weigh and measure my food daily...except when I go out. And therein seems to lie the problem. Well, that and night time. I still go to therapy every 2 weeks. I do all these things and yet I'm still struggling with emotional eating that is beyond being satiated. This is making my scale do loopy things and it's making me feel like a fraud, through and through.

How can I be any kind of example for anyone, or inspiration for anyone, when I've obviously not got this all conquered? There was a discussion last week on OH, and one of the things someone said to me was that I was fortunate to have overcome the mindset. Really? Have I overcome it? I don't think so. I try damn hard, but I haven't overcome it...not by a long shot.

I cannot fail at this...it is simply not an option. If I ever have regain issues that are significant, I honestly think I'd rather die than live through being obese again. I can't live through that heartache again. I simply can't. I wish I knew what the issue was. I wish I knew how to regain control. I'm using everything in my power that I know of, and I'm still struggling. I know this surgery was no cure for my head...I just wish I understood why in the past few months it has become so much harder to stay on track. All I can do is just keep doing what I'm doing...and writing and talking.

This weekend, Zachary had the courage to ride his bike again. It's been at least a year since he even took it outside. He had a pretty bad fall a couple of years ago with his training wheels, and so he had no desire to ride his bike again. So, when he voluntarily took it out Sunday, I was pretty excited and asked him if he thought he might like to try riding without the training wheels. He panicked and said no way, he was afraid he'd die. I assured him that would not happen, I would be there for him, but he was adamant. So, I let it go.

We went to the park by his school so he could ride there. On the playground were several older kids...probably 12 to 14 years old. It was clear that Zachary felt self-conscious and didn't wait very long before deciding he wanted to go home...and quietly told me he wanted to try to ride without his training wheels. So, off we went. I was very excited...but I was also pretty nervous. You see, I didn't know if I'd have the ability to teach him to ride. I know how to ride a bike...but I didn't know if I could actually teach him to do it. I have this weird thing in my head about physical activities sometimes. I still feel like I'm fat and like I have no skills/ability/business teaching anyone anything that is physical. Low and behold though, here is my son, and it's my job to teach him. And teach him I did. Within half an hour of coaching, holding the back of his seat, letting go for brief periods of time, he was off and riding. He spent many hours the rest of his weekend riding around, setting new "world records" for how many times around our building he could ride without having to stop. He's also learning to put on the brakes hard to skid. I see future injuries coming.

In my romantic life, well, what romantic life? I'm still struggling. I think, honestly, I will probably always be alone. I didn't really date in high school and I didn't really date after high school. I've dated more since my split with Zachary's father almost 9 years ago than I ever have before in my life. I never was a "dater" and I've never been one to be approached by men. I don't know why that is...but I suspect that it's something I do, some vibe I give off somehow that makes them stay away. I wish I knew what it was I do so I could stop doing it. I think that my fat used to protect me from knowing things about myself that I don't much like. I could chalk up not being approached by men to me being fat. Guess what? I'm not fat anymore...and I'm still not appealing to men. There must actually be something about ME that isn't appealing. There are no excuses...no weight to hide behind...just me. That's not so much fun to acknowledge.

I don't need a man to be happy...but I want a partner to share my life with. I want someone to share the joy of raising my child with...someone who will smile back at me knowing as well as I do just how momentous an occasion it was for Z to learn to ride this weekend. We share with family and friends, which is wonderful. But it's not the same. And I still have my last relationship on my brain, despite my best efforts to dismiss those thoughts. He shows up in dreams and thoughts. I still feel a little baffled by it all, and frustrated because I was fully willing and able to accept his child in my life, but he couldn't do the same for me and mine. It hurts still...and I wish it didn't, I want it not to. I have done everything I can think of to get this crap out of my head and yet it still peeks through here and there.

My mother was 64 when she died. And she died without having a significant other. In fact, she didn't really have too many significant others in her lifetime either. I have so many friends who say "your guy is out there, you just haven't met him yet, be patient, enjoy your life," etc. I do enjoy my life...and I do appreciate all that I have. And I am doing my best to make my life happy, me, myself and I. But I have my times when the loneliness really is very heavy and I think that no matter what, I will probably just end up alone. I'm not relationship material. I'm too defective and damaged. I wonder what makes me so different from other women who have no issues meeting men, at least get asked out, without really having to do much to garner that attention. I'm missing something inherently. And I haven't a clue what it is.

Then again, there's that whole fraud thing. It applies here as well. It applies in my mothering (someday, people will find out I'm a crappy mother despite what they see/think), and it applies in relationships of all kinds (if anyone really gets to know me, they'll realize I'm way too messed up to be around). I've talked about it many times in therapy, the fraud concept. I guess it's not a dead subject and will be raised yet again.

Daily Tarot Card Reading

2009-05-18T08:06:00.001-04:00

Love this one, which came up for me today.

The Sun
The Sun This card signifies a time of clarity and power. The Sun will offer light and warmth after a dark time in your life. It is a sign of rejuvenation and growth, and shows that you are starting to flourish in your current situation. The Sun is associated with happiness, growth and good fortune. Your path has been illuminated and good fortune is on its way.

Yes, I'm ready for the good fortune and growth.

Plastics Consult and Mother's Day

2009-05-12T07:12:00.003-04:00

I had my plastic surgery consult on Friday. We discussed my sagging and deflated breasts, my Sharpei-like breast and tummy, my thighs, my buttocks, and my face. All of the possible procedures were explored, questions were asked, and costs were estimated. And then, I went home with my head spinning with so much information that I needed to digest and process. I didn't do this alone though; I talked to some friends who've both had and not had plastic surgery...people who have known me fat and thin to be aware of the changes my body and face have gone through. In many ways, I have my own body dysmorphia to contend with and so I need to rely a little bit on external honest sources to help evaluate my appearance.

I've made some decisions...at least for now. The most visible part of my body to others is my face. I've lost a lot of facial fat. To me, this has made my face look hard and angular. But to others, the perception of my face is classic and healthy and athletic looking. Not gaunt or sickly. I'm going to try and sit with that one for a bit. As for my breasts, well, I would need both a lift and augmentation (implants) because a lift alone would leave me with essentially nothing. And if I had just implants, they would need to be fairly large to fill out the loose skin I have and beause the skin is so loose/has lost so much laxity, it can't really support that kind of implant without looking (in my opinion) awful. The thought of how I will age with those also crossed my mind. So for now, I'll settle for a good bra. My tummy...well, it's pretty gross (to me). But I can't justify the length of time off of work, out of my life, the cost, the risk, just to have a belly that looks good without clothing on.

The fact of the matter is, except for my face, all of my skin issues are invisible to the majority people because in clothing, I look great. It's only without clothes that any of these things is apparent. Hopefully, if some man comes into my life and gets close enough to see me naked, he won't be disgusted by what he sees. I also think that perhaps I have an unrealistic view of what women my age, who have had and nursed babies, look like after that. I think that while their tummies and breasts may not be quite like mine, they probably aren't nearly as different as I believe them to be in my head. Until such time as I really can't stand it anymore, I'm going to do nothing. I'm going to try and really be happy with my body and where I am in my journey.

Mother's day was, as it has been the past three years, a good and bittersweet day. I miss my own mom, despite our turbulent relationship. But I had such an awesome mother's day because of my own son. He cooked me dinner Saturday night (yes, yes he did and it was AWESOME!). He wrote me the most beautiful letter that is laminated and I will cherish forever. And his gift, wrapped in paper he decorated himself with his own artwork, was a lovely breakfast tray he decorated. How much better does it get than that?

We went to dinner with my brother, sister-in-law and her mom as well. Dinner was great. I overate, so I felt awful and then had a blood sugar drop on the ride home from NH. Thank goodness for Jolly Ranchers candies. I wonder sometimes if I will EVER stop doing stupid things like that, knowing how it makes me feel. I know, they didn't operate on our brains, only our tummies. It still frustrates me with myself to put myself in that position. My mistake was having too much bread with dinner. Ugh. Anyway, we all survived and it really was a lovely day and weekend.

And here is my beautiful boy this morning, before I woke him up. Those animals are his "friendship club" and the bulk of them are actually at the foot of the bed, not pictured. You can't see his sweet freckles in this picture, but they are getting darker and more prevalent on his nose and cheeks now that the days are nicer and we are outside more. Life is good, really.

Little Rays of Light

2009-05-06T10:30:00.002-04:00

My son gives me more joy than anything on this Earth. Last night, one of those moments occurred that just made me feel like "yeah, I guess I'm doing okay with this parenting thing most of the time." I worry a great deal that I'm falling short (in case you hadn't noticed).

Zachary wanted to play Electronic Battleship. We've played many times before but never to completion of the game. I think he gets bored and quits...or he feels like he's going to lose and so he gives up. It's always frustrating to me because I want him to actually finish the game. Last night, we played. I had sunk 4 of his 5 ships. He had sunk 2 of mine. He said once that he didn't want to play anymore, and I said "come on, we're going to finish this game, you can do it."

Well, I had 1 ship of his left to find...the little patrol boat (requiring 2 hits). Not an easy find, could be anywhere. Suffice it to say that he kept at it and ended up winning the game. What a proud moment for me that he finished and I saw that huge beaming smile on his face to be called "admiral." I told him how proud I was of him for finishing, that it was his first time and I was really very pleased. He said "I only did it because of you." I asked him what he meant by that. He said "I only finished the game because you made me feel confident."

As my friend Dave would say, "BEAMIES." Yes, he gets it.

Anniversaries and Time

2009-05-05T07:11:00.004-04:00

Three years ago today, it was a Friday...and it was the day my mom died. Each year I remember this day, obviously. This year though, I'm in such a different place that reflecting on the changes in the past three years is pretty intense. Zachary has started classifying some things in his life as "before Nana died" and "after Nana died" in terms of memories. It's obviously a big marker in time for him as well.

I had to take Zachary to the pediatrician that morning three years ago. And I had to take him to North Shore Children's Hospital after that to get blood work done. While we sat there waiting, I called mom's ICU nurse to check and see how she had done that night. The nurse wasn't able to talk to me then, and they suggested I call back in half an hour. I did just that, and found out why she hadn't been able to talk to me earlier. Mom hadn't had a particularly good night, and they had her on BI-PAP which helped. Then, they tried to take her off that, and her blood pressure and pulse oxygen plummeted, so they put her back on BI-PAP, to no avail. They moved on to C-PAP. She did better. At that point, I asked that her pulmonologist give me a call so I could get a better idea of her condition, prognosis, etc. Since mom had been in the hospital since Wednesday (and this was now Friday morning), I hadn't yet talked to any of her doctors, only her nurse.

Around lunch time, I called and checked my voice mail at home, and there was a message from the doctor there...I have no idea why as I had given both my work and cell phone numbers. But I called back and left a message for the doctor to return my call at work. About an hour later (just about 1 p.m.), the doctor called and instead of a progress report, I was beckoned to the hospital immediately. Mom had apparently taken a turn for the worse and had been intubated and we needed to get there now. I asked what had happened, since all that I knew was that she had pneumonia. They believed she had a massive blood clot that traveled to her lungs. I began sobbing as I made my way to my boss's office to let him know I had to leave. I couldn't even catch my breath, I was so taken off-guard. I called my brother's cell, got voice mail. So I called my sister-in-law's cell and told her to find him, reach him, and for them to meet me at the hospital.

When I arrived there, the chaplain was there. Never a good sign. They explained what all had happened, and that basically the next 12 hours would really be a good indication of how things would go. At about 5 p.m. they suggested we get some food while they changed her bedding. At about 6:15, as we choked down food at McDonald's, my cell phone rang and we were told to get back to the hospital ASAP. Mom had crashed several times and they were doing everything they could, but didn't think they could sustain her even at that level for much longer. They told us that even if by some miracle she came through it, her quality of life would be negligible. My brother and I made the decision for them to stop trying. And so, the medical personnel left the room, turned off the alarms, and monitored our mom from outside of the room while we stayed with her, talking to her, holding her hand. She wasn't conscious and hadn't been since they sedated her around lunch time to intubate her. At best, it was 15 minutes before the doctor came back in and let us know she was gone.

I made arrangements for Zachary to sleep at a friend's house that night and he was with his dad the next day. That gave me the evening to sort of regroup. His dad and I would tell him the next day when he came home. He was sad. I don't think he really understood what it meant. It was a solid 6 months before he broke down sobbing out of the blue one night in the car saying "I miss my Nana."

I think about the sports he's playing this spring, how he's doing in school, the kind of child he is, and I wonder how thrilled my mom would be to attend every game, practice, etc. that he plays in. She would surely be at every musical event at school, art show, open house, she would take any volunteer opportunity if it meant spending more time with Zachary. I know she would love doing homework with him, playing with him. She would have a much greater appreciation for his limited time as a small child than I feel like I'm having these days. I feel so caught up in a rat race that it is taking concerted effort to remember what is truly important in life.

Life feels very overwhelming right now to me. I've had a sinus headache/issue for over 4 weeks now. It's wearing me down physically and mentally. It's keeping me from working out as regularly and intensely as I would both like and need to. I'm eating more than I should. As a result, I'm seeing changes in my body and in the scale that I really don't like and want. And it has me feeling mildly panicked. Every day, I start new and remind myself that it is NEVER over, and I don't EVER have to give up this battle with food. I just need to keep doing my best. Right now, it feels kind of like my best isn't good enough in any area.

This too shall pass.

First 5K--Completed

2009-04-18T14:29:00.010-04:00

Martha and I (and her hubby Kevin) ran in a 5K today in Ipswich. It was my first (not theirs). But all of us, having had WLS in the past 3 to 4 years, were pretty pleased with ourselves to run the entire thing and finish NOT in last place. This was NOT in my foreseeable future some 3 years ago, I can say that. With arthritis in my knees, hips, and ankles, and a Morton's Neuroma and neuropathy in my left foot/ankle, I never thought I'd be running again. But, with great shoes and glucosamine and a lot less weight on me, I guess it's possible.

Martha and I are going to do the "series" of runs (we have to complete 5 of 12 by December). Great motivation to keep going and have a friend to do it with. YEAH!

Here we are, at the finish line and post-race. Yes, those are very smug smiles on our faces. Seeing Zachary waiting for me, cheering me on at the finish line, waiting to high-five me, I don't think anything could have been better.

Pre-Race

At the Finish Line

Post-Race

Onward and Upward

2009-04-15T13:39:00.001-04:00

On one of the OH boards today, someone commented on how this IS easy...easier than it has ever been. And so, she wondered "did I in fact take the easy way out?"

The losing part WAS easier (for me) with the surgery than it ever was before. It gave me the ability to manage my appetite and portions without constantly feeling deprived/hungry. I do (and have since being a pre-op) work out regularly at a pretty intense level. I also waited (not by choice) about 9 months from the time I started the process to have surgery to when I actually had my surgery and had many hoops to jump through for surgery to happen.

With that said, know that maintenace is a different ball game altogther...it's hard. Your ability to eat more, fall into old habits if not diligent, stop food journaling, not exercise, test the boundaries of tolerable foods more and more occurs as you get more comfortable with your new plumbing, in my opinion. That, combined with not having the losing of weight to motivate you and needing to find different motivation to keep on track, makes things more of a "head" game than a physical game. It is a difficult head game at that. But the head game ultimately affects the physical if we let it. And that, for me, has been much harder.

My goals have changed. I focus on staying physically in shape, keeping my body looking as good as it can and feeling as good as it can. That involves regular exercise and eating properly. I have definitely been struggling with this the past couple of months. I have felt physically and emotionally pretty cruddy as a result. My weight went over my "acceptable" (to me) 2 lb. fluctuation this week. That means that the indiscretions with food choices, amounts and not exercising must come to a halt. Period, end of story. I will NOT become obese again. No way, no how.

This Saturday, I will run my first 5K with Martha...she inspires me. I'm terrified...I am. Terrified that pain in my joints will completely hamper me. I need to stop thinking this way but it's hard. I first injured my knees back in 1997 running on pavement. I have had two knee surgeries since, and haven't run outdoors since then either. I have only trained indoors on a treadmill. But, this is a goal for me...one that I think is very worthwhile and will help keep me moving forward, focusing on the positive changes in my life since having RNY. It's all about the goals and motivation and finding what works over the long haul.

Big Step

2009-04-02T10:08:00.014-04:00

I have always been pretty terrified of even considering plastic surgery as a post-op. I look fine in clothing. But out of clothing, my breasts are sadly very wrinkled and deflated and my belly is extremely wrinkled and deflated looking. There's not really any fat there left to fill it out. And while it isn't awful, it does bother me sometimes. I will wear form-fitting clothing and when I sit down, I still have rolls. My breasts are more or less rolled up into my bra. Lately, I have been thinking that I have just worked too hard working out, eating right, taking care of myself to still feel like I look fat (yes, sometimes that's how I feel when I see these rolls of skin). I know that I have fared better than many, many people with regards to skin issues. It still bothers me. Pictures follow at the end of the blog entry.

I have a friend who had a circumferential lower body lift post-WLS...and she had a lot of complications. She spent the better part of 8 months in and out of the hospital, lots of surgeries for necrotic tissue, etc. Being a single mother of a fairly young child still, the idea of this kind of recovery to begin with, let alone if I had a complication, has made plastic surgery something I would not even consider. But, more and more I have been thinking that it wouldn't hurt just to find out what my options are and what the cost would be.

So, today I called and scheduled a consult for an hour. May 8th. Can't hurt to ask, right? Better to be informed...always.

No Coincidences

2009-03-24T12:35:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I wrote about our humanness, and the sharing of emotion that connects us all. Today, well, I came across this song, which isn't new by any means...but this was the first time I'd heard this version of it. And so, I checked out Matt Brouwer's official website and read his bio. Could he have said it any more succinctly? I don't think so.

"I hope my music is an invitation for people to engage in the celebration of life, both the great times and the difficult stuff too. No matter how the specifics of our experiences differ, the essence of what we go through is the same. Music helps us celebrate those big moments and also offers comfort and hope in dark times as well. Music provides that common ground. Beyond one song or one album, my dream is to grow old with an audience and share the years, never being afraid to go deep into the conversation of what it means to be human. I’ve seen how music can bring clarity and resolve to our experiences in a way that marks that passage of time and helps assign meaning to those moments we often take for granted. With this new CD I think that’s the message, being compelled to aggressively seek out that kind of connection with an audience that lasts beyond the shelf life of a product because we were courageous enough to dig a little deeper." ~ Matt Brouwer

"I Shall Believe"

Thoughts on Loss and Love

2009-03-23T08:43:00.016-04:00

In talking with a good friend recently, the topic of loss and how we cope with it is foremost on my mind. She has experienced much loss and heartache in the past 5 years. As is often the case with life, just when you think you're on the "up side" of dealing with something painful, you have your bearings again, life throws you another whammy to slap you back down. Along with two other friends of mine (and probably scores of others that I don't know about), we just keep telling each other and ourselves "just keep swimming, just keep swimming" (think Dory of "Finding Nemo") because sometimes, that's really all you can do.

The third anniversary of my mom's death is coming up on May 5th. It's really hard to believe it's been almost 3 years. I've thought about her a lot more the past few weeks. Zachary has talked about missing her much more lately as well.

I suspect that the loss of my recent love relationship has stirred up some of its own grief/loss feelings. It's a loss that has taken me much longer to move past than I had hoped or wanted...I've struggled mightily to let go. Being with him, well, it was as though I was intoxicated, literally feeling euphoric. All of my inhibitions felt like they were gone and the communication with him was just there. I was me, in my best sense. There were times that being with him felt surreal because the intimacy was so intense. I knew in my heart that he just "got me" without a whole lot of explanation. Though I've been in love before, it was never like this. This was the closest I've probably ever allowed myself to get to a man. It's hard to understand, let alone explain, how I could feel what I felt in a short period of time. I was, for once, open enough to trust and believe it was a mutual feeling, and one that would continue to grow and be strong enough to withstand life's trials and tribulations. As such, the love in my heart for this person just doesn't really want to let go and believe that what was, and touched me so profoundly, is *poof* gone. He's moved on, and I'm trying very hard to do the same but it takes time I guess...more for me than some.

So many different events can trigger seemingly unrelated memories and feelings because the emotions (grief, loss, angst) are the same. The more I think about us as human beings, the more I profoundly realize that we all have different circumstances in our lives, but the emotions we feel are all the same. Personally, I feel like it's my life purpose to figure out how best to connect to other people through those emotions. It keeps me feeling human, compassionate, and alive.

I've also reflected a lot recently on the value of friendship to me. I cherish all of my relationships...friendship, family, and romantic. I've touched on this topic before in other posts. My level of commitment to these relationships seems at times to be much greater than the average person's. But, as I continue to journey through life, I am learning how to discern between the folks who do and don't invest as much in the relationship as I do. I'd much prefer to be on equal footing with a person than not. The give and take is crucial. I'm learning to weed out the ones that don't share the same value system with me in regards to relationships. Occasionally, I make a mistaken assessment and my heart is whomped. Life happens. Loss happens. I continue to learn to live with it and move on, taking what lessons I can from it.

I'm trying to not let my trust and faith in people be rocked every time I'm disappointed...but that's another lifelong lesson I suppose. My recovery from such events has gotten shorter over the years at least. Give enough trust to be happy, but not so much as to be easily hurt. I tend to trust more easily than I should in circumstances I shouldn't...and I have difficulty trusting in the situations that I should trust in. It's almost as though my entire sense of what is and isn't appropriate with regards to trust is warped. Well, it probably is, now that I think about it. A lack of healthy boundaries throughout childhood probably has done quite a bit to form the skewed schema of trust that exists in my head. More conscious effort will be required to keep this straight I guess.

I am so very, very happy and grateful though, to have in my life friends who have endured through years and years of struggle with me. Their willingness and commitment to stand by me through thick or thin has done so much to help me realize that it's worth it to continue to give people chances to earn my trust. I'm glad I don't just blindly shut the whole world out when my issues flare up...I think that would be a very, very lonely and isolated place to be. Not a lot of personal growth is going to come of that either, I suspect. This is my personal thanks to friends old and new for showing me love. I value it more than you will ever probably know despite my best efforts to show you.

Intuition

2009-03-19T12:15:00.013-04:00

One of the lessons that I learned at an early age was how to read the "feelings" of other people or situations. It was actually a survival skill in my household. If I could "sense" what the mood/atmosphere at home would be before I arrived, I could better prepare myself for how to handle it and respond to it. I can clearly remember walking home from school some days and having that feeling of dread hit the pit of my stomach, when I was easily over a mile away from home still, for no apparent reason...just "knowing" that the home situation was going to be an emotionally volatile one that day. I learned how to keep my head down, my voice low, and try to be as invisible as possible during these times. It didn't always work, but I would try my hardest.

Over the years, I've realized that this ability to pick up on people's feelings without them even being present is not necessarily something everyone can do, let alone with accuracy. Time and experience has shown me that I do indeed have this talent quite well-refined. But, because I also have my issues (and we ALL have issues, don't get me wrong), I tend to discount my perceptions/feelings on these matters much of the time...or I allow other folks to talk me out of them. That is, of course, until someone or something comes along to slam into my face that indeed, it is a foolish thing to do, discount my own perceptions/instincts/gut feelings on situations. I can't actually think of a time that I discounted my feelings/gut reaction and didn't regret it later on. If I had heeded what my gut was saying on more occasions, I'd have avoided so much pain in my life. I'd have held myself in higher esteem. You see, when I start doubting myself, I start demeaning myself at the same time. If it's not the issue of someone else, then it must be MY issue, and that I expect, demand, need too much. That I'm clingy. Unhealthy. Undesirable. All of these thoughts result in me going down a really bad path of feeling worthless and unlikeable, never mind feeling lovable.

I'm certain it all comes back to/stems from my trust issues. I don't trust other people...how can I when I don't even trust myself? So, for now, this is going to be my focus. Tuning back into my own intuition and even when I try to fight it, following what it tells me. Learning to trust myself. You know what's funny? I just bought a couple of books on this very topic a couple of weeks ago...before I realized just how imperative this would be to me at this point in my life. Coincidence? Nah, I don't think so.

A Battering Kind Of Week

2009-03-01T07:36:00.003-05:00

This has been one of those weeks that I need to find some way to completely let go of and forget about. So many things happened this week that are just plain ugly and could ruminate in my brain until it explodes.

My son has had a fever all week and he's been home or at work with me because he can't be at school with a fever. No other symptoms. And now, it looks like Monday/Tuesday may very well be snow days.

My food intake has been more erratic than it should be. My exercise habits have been less than consistent this week. Two times to the gym, that's it. It was very difficult to get there between having to work from home and leaving work early with a sick child. And these things lead me to be extremely concerned that I will regain my weight. That thought absolutely terrifies me.

Add to that all the other stress of the week (dealing with issues with my son's other parent and his diatribes, the gist of which basically have me painted as a naive and controlling parent), well, I think that I'm pretty much shit on the bottom of anyone's shoe. I feel pretty damn worthless, stupid, useless, a horrible mother, miserable co-parent, you name it.

If I could disappear, well, honestly? I think I would. I don't want to deal with anyone. Not my child, not my friends really, not my therapist, not anyone. Just hide somewhere. And yet, I feel insanely lonely and in need. I could really use a good cry and someone to hold me while I had that cry. Unfortunately, that isn't going to happen. I'll probably opt for a bubble bath and a good cry later this morning when Zachary is out with his Big Brother.

I know I need to update his Big on what's been going on with his dad...and I just can't even figure to how to do that. Or if I even should...given that according to dad, I'm just indulging the child in his need for attention.

I'm trying to tell myself this too shall pass. But right now? It feels all consuming. Please, please let it pass quickly and let me get back to living soon.

Dreams That Die

2009-02-24T09:40:00.014-05:00

When I was pregnant with my son, it was a very, very difficult time in my life. And I have no doubt that it was the very presence of his developing being in my body that kept me alive. Without that, I would have had zero motivation/reason in my mind to continue living. Things were really, really bad. I was alone, broken-hearted, betrayed, scared.

I wrote a poem for Zachary once he was born that summed up how I felt about what his existence had meant in my life:

For My Sweet Zachary

You came into my life as such a surprise,
At a time when my hope was all but gone.
The universe knew this.
It gave you to me as its gift.

To tell me to keep on....
To have hope...
To keep my heart open...
To remain loving, caring, committed...
No matter what the world throws my way.

I was terrified.
Afraid I would not be good enough,
For you,
To you,
With you.

This tiny life inside of me
Continued to grow each day.
And I remained amazed that my body
Could and would sustain such a miracle.
I was profoundly touched
That the universe believed I deserved such honor
To be chosen as your mother.

You arrived eight days early.
And I was giddy with excitement
As I labored to bring your life
Into this world,
To begin your journey
As an independent human being.

And when first I held you,
I'd never seen anything so beautiful
In all of my life.
And I cried that you were mine.
That the waiting was over
And you were here.

For me to love,
To hold,
To nurture,
To protect,
To teach,
To learn to let go.

We have so many years
Of this journey ahead of us.
And already
I've learned so much.
I've learned what really matters.
You are here,
You are safe,
You are healthy,
You are beautiful and happy.

And I've learned
That for now,
Loving you
Is all that I really need to do
To be enough.

I love you Zachary Ryan,
Now and always.

– Love, Mommy
June 11, 2001

It's probably time that I share this poem with him. It's been on another website of mine for years. Much of my older poetry is on there. I wrote poetry a lot when I was younger, it helped me work through many of my feelings growing up. I have continued to write on and off over the years, but this is really the last decent poem I've written...that I felt passionately enough about to write something that felt so true to my heart.

I have not always wanted children. Before I was married, I swore I would not have children because I was so afraid I would mess them up. By the time I got married, I'd done enough work on myself to think that maybe, just maybe, I could be a decent enough parent not to screw up a kid as much as I was. With my ex-husband, there was a tubal pregnancy, and subsequent fertility issues for me. We tried to conceive after the tubal pregnancy, but had no luck.

Zachary's father and I had been trying to start a family for 8 months...charting morning temperature every day of the month, checking cervical mucus, etc. All to no avail...until of course things were an absolute mess and it was pretty clear the relationship would be ending. I went back on birth control pills and got pregnant that first month back on them. Imagine my surprise...I was terrified, I had no intention of ever being a single parent. I have always believed that children need two involved parents.

My pregnancy was difficult on me. Alone, scared, stressed by finding out about the "woman" that he'd gotten together with. There was no partner with whom to share the joy or excitement or fear of my pregnancy. The nights that the baby's movements inside of me kept me up, there was no one to wake and share that with. It's still a really painful memory to me, all of those months.

For such a long time, I held out hope that I would have more children with a loving partner. In the last year or so though, my aging body has been something I've had to reckon with in my mind with regards to this dream. I very sadly reconciled myself to the fact that I would probably never have more babies. I started to believe though, within the past few months, briefly, that I might actually have this dream become a reality. It pains me to have to let it go again...I thought I was done with my heart breaking over the loss of this dream. Apparently, I'm not.

I look at the beautiful little boy I have, and I am so incredibly lucky to have him. He is my miracle. He wants siblings...he talks so much about how he wants it to be more than just he and I. And I understand that feeling for him. I really do. I want that too. At this moment though, I think that I'm probably destined to spend my life without a partner...without more children...and I want to go back to being okay with that instead of feeling heartbroken about it. I'm not quite sure how to get there again. Maybe it's just something that will take time.

My weight is now stable...my health is good. I'd be in a good place to have more children...well, except for being 40 (and I was reminded at my physical that my eggs are old, *sigh*). I'm a fit 40...more fit than I ever have been, mentally and physically. And yet my dreams feel like they are being left to die. It hurts...it really does. I feel angry about it too.

I struggle with why it is so hard for me to let go of connections to other people. It seems as though others are able to move on so much more easily when a connection has ended...almost as if people, relationships, are disposable. For me, all I can think is "how can anyone have that strong of a connection to another person and then simply walk away and let it go?" I can't do that...it seems to take so much time for the feelings to dissipate. I have people that I was so close to many years ago, and our friendships/relationships have ended, and STILL it plagues me...why we can't still be close. I think I'm a good friend. I certainly try to be. But the fact that a relationship with me can be so easily walked away from leaves me with self-doubt as to my worth as a friend and what I have to offer. What is wrong with me? Why can't I just turn the feelings off and walk away like others can?

Transfer Addictions?

2009-02-23T15:58:00.005-05:00

Transfer addictions...they warrant some thought now and again. Whenever I go off-plan for any length of time (more than a day), well, I have to really start evaluating what the heck is going on in my life, in my head, and determine if my behavior is more related to general misbehaving or trying to mask some other turmoil in my life. I haven't written in several weeks. Why...hmmm...well, probably because I don't want to write about all the stuff going on in my head these days. It's ugly. And if I'm going to write at all here, for me, it needs to be an honest accounting of what's happening with me. So, I'd prefer not to write at all than to put some BS out there that doesn't genuinely reflect where I am...head, heart, mind/body. I guess occasionally I'm pretty good with avoidance.

Honestly, I feel as though I'm mentally spinning my wheels of late. I can't figure out where I am, where I'm going, or even where I want to go. I'm doing my best to talk to friends, read, sort through things in my own mind and in therapy. Truth be known, I haven't a clue what's going on with me lately except for lots of self-doubt and insecurities. I hate feeling that way. It's like all of my insecurities are ruminating in my head and I don't know how to dispel them. I feel inadequate, unlovable, fat, unattractive, and defective in so many ways. I don't even want to verbalize those things right now because they just make me sound so ugly as a person. Insecurity in general is so unattractive. I wish that awareness alone was enough to make it not so. I'd be so psyched.

For now though, I guess I'll just keep keeping on...one stinkin' day at a time sometimes, hoping each day will be a little better than the last. I'll keep going to the gym. Going to therapy. Being active with friends. Eating as I should and not always how I want. I've been showing more indiscretion lately with my food choices, always getting what I need but then eating more of the things I don't need. The idea of living in a state of chocolate and wine oblivion (ok, you could probably throw sex in there too) sounds pretty darn good sometimes. That scares me. I don't want to regain weight. I don't want to not be dealing with life on life's terms. I didn't go through all of the things I've been through in my life only to fail...but it's what I'm most afraid of. *sigh* Tell me it gets better...that I'm not just settling into a period of long-term weight loss that will always be this troubling in my mind. (Did that make ANY sense at all???)

Communication and Abandonment

2009-02-01T18:23:00.006-05:00

I've realized that I really am quite an oddity. In spending a good deal of time with girlfriends lately, it's become clear that I communicate far more than "your average bear." I don't know how NOT to talk about what I'm feeling and thinking...sometimes to my own detriment at times. It affects my relationships. Hopefully, the folks who love me understand where this comes from and will have patience with me while I muddle through some of the muck. There will always be muck in our lives, won't there?

My friend Tammy and I were talking today about my need to communicate. And last night, I was talking with my friend Alla about this same topic. Yes, it's an actual need for me. How did it become that? Well, many years ago, when I was a kid growing up, I learned that to have feelings of my own, to have thoughts of my own, made me selfish and self-absorbed. To express feelings of any kind that weren't empathy for the crisis of another family member (ok, realistically that was mom), I was sure to receive a reprisal of some sort. Usually a tongue lashing and withdrawing of affection and the ever-present "knowledge" that I thought only of myself. (Side note: I realize now that kids and teens ARE ego-centric...it's actually TYPICAL, not uncommon.)

When I started in therapy, I was 12 years old. The reason for my therapy? I had an eating disorder. I was anorexic, which led to anorexia/bulimia. There were many therapists in the beginning. I liked some of them very much…but I guess mom did not and so, the therapist was switched. And finally, I decided that to be a “good” anorexic I needed to not talk at all. I spent months going to weekly therapy sessions where I didn’t speak a single word. Instead, I sat there and I peeled away the dead foliage from a hanging spider plant in the shrink’s office. I can’t remember why exactly I finally did start talking…I only remember what the experience was like. I was sobbing because I was opening my mouth, sharing the thoughts in my head, and so once again I had “failed” at doing something well…being the best at something. In this case, being a tough nut to crack anorexic. I’d opened my mouth.

Therapy became the only place that I could talk…well, until the therapist I saw for a while (that I HATED) basically said I had no reason to be afraid of my mom since she didn’t physically beat me. I didn’t realize that emotional abuse and withholding of affection couldn’t elicit fear in a child…someone never told my BRAIN that. And so, I was afraid of losing her love, disappointing her, and I never wanted to let her down. But I apparently did quite a fine job of letting her down and disappointing her and pissing her off on a pretty regular basis. Most of the time I thought she hated me and wished I didn’t exist. Because my mom didn’t beat me, he felt there was no justifiable reason for me to be afraid to talk to my mom about things, feelings…and so he told her that because my fear was not based in reality, I was a pathological liar. To this day, I am brutally honest with everyone because I fear being caught in even the slightest exaggeration/non-truth and being deemed a liar again. I’ve chosen partners who have lied to me ad nauseum…I know what a pathological liar is. I am not one, never was. I’m not even your generic, everyday liar. I don't lie. Never did.

I digress. When my dad died and I ended up in the hospital, the principle of communication as a basic need was stressed as necessary to my very survival. How? Well, in a psychiatric hospital, there is such a thing as constant observation. That means being in a group with others who are constantly monitored/in the presence of a staff member. Sometimes, you're on "one on one", one staff to one patient. This can actually be better in some ways. But what it means as a group is that no one in the group could go in the kitchen to get our own coffee/cereal because there were sharp/dangerous objects in there. We couldn’t shave or use razors. We couldn’t shower without being watched, go to the bathroom without being watched, sleep in a room without a staff member there to watch you all night, sit in the dining room with others to visit or go in the TV room to watch a show unless everyone else in the group wanted to do that.

Being in a psych hospital meant that every physiological symptom, mood, etc. that you had was under scrutiny. Have a headache? What stressor caused it? Upset stomach? What prompted that? The goal of the staff there was to get you to talk about your feelings...communicate. There were many means to encourage this. The threat of being put on constant observation was one. I remember having a migraine and asking for aspirin and being told by the nurse that she’d be happy to give me aspirin right after I sat with her and talked about what was going on to bring on my headache. I didn’t want to talk. I told her to fuck off and keep her aspirin. That landed me on a six-week stint of constant observation.

I spent a lot of time on constant observation because I wasn’t going to follow their rules. I also employed distractions to not deal with my feelings. I crocheted massive blankets. You know what that got me? Put on crochet restriction. Yup, they basically told me that I could not isolate myself that way and so, I was only allowed to crochet for an hour a day. Things that people take for granted in their day-to-day lives as hobbies, distractions, tools for coping/escaping from the everyday stuff that can get you down? Well, in a psych hospital where everything is examined and there are no accidents and everything has a motivation, those kinds of distractions are not allowed to be employed. Unless you want to be restricted in every means possible, you learn to communicate. It’s drilled into your being that what you are supposed to do is talk about your feelings and your thoughts. If you keep them secret, they keep you sick. You verbalize them and work through them, health is restored.

I guess I learned that lesson really, really well over those two years. I don’t know how to NOT talk now…and I find it’s not always a good thing. The rest of the world doesn’t operate under these same rules/guidelines…and so, I’m perceived (or maybe just am?) intense. I’m often misunderstood as I muddle through an explanation of the rawest of my emotions. Oftentimes I am making sense of it AS I SPEAK…it doesn’t all make sense when it first comes out. And that, well, that leads to some pretty difficult relationships sometimes. I’ve probably hurt more than one relationship in my life unintentionally by being this honest, open and direct person in a world of folks who don't typically do or understand or maybe even want that.

One of the things that my mom used to do when she was having a hard time was to take off. Leave us. Literally, she would disappear for a few days. Her friend would call us and tell us that she was ok, but that she was overwhelmed and was going to be away for a few days. On occasion, this came on the heels of one of her attempts to kill herself. We had no means to contact her directly, only could contact a friend of hers. We didn't know where she was, how exactly she was, what we had done to upset her, or when exactly she'd be back. When we were younger and this happened, we would be sent to stay with friends for a few days. One of my best friends, well, my mom abused the ability to call on her family so much for help/assistance that I was no longer allowed to have my best friend's phone number. Her mom and dad decided that if I had the number, my mom would pester me for it at some point and use it to call them and ask for favors...which they didn't want to have to oblige. And so, I was unable to call my best friend for years...wasn't allowed to have her phone number. I also knew that if I did anything wrong (sometimes I didn't even know what I had done wrong, and I suspect that sometimes mom's disappearances weren't even related to anything I did), mom would take off/abandon us/me (her doing this continued until my senior year of high school when she finally had a therapist who told her he would help her work through her feelings, but she really needed to return to her child). In hindsight, it really doesn't or shouldn't surprise me that I have issues with people abandoning me when I'm less than perfect. I never expect anyone to stick around for me long-term.

So, lessons learned for now…communication is good. I believe that. Honest communication is imperative. But learning how to communicate honestly and openly with finesse? Well, that is an art form…one I wish to cultivate in myself. I think it will save me and others a great deal of heartache. Oh, and learning to recognize that if others don't communicate as openly as I do does not necessarily mean they don't care, love me, or are about to leave me. Of course, sometimes that IS the case, but not always. Abandonment issues die hard I guess.

18-Month Follow-Up and Updates

2009-01-22T07:10:00.002-05:00

I had my 18-month follow-up appointment on Tuesday with Melinda at Heart and Wellness. We reviewed my labs, which look really good. My hemoglobin is finally up to 13.9 (YEAH!!!) after switching to ferrous fumarate instead of ferrous sulfate. I did have a bone density done the week before, and we reviewed those results. I've lost between 3% and 5% of bone mass in the past 19 months since surgery...so that isn't good. I take all of my calcium supplements as I should, so we upped my vitamin D-3 intake to 1000 IUs twice a day, each taken with my calcium (800 mg calcium citrate at a pop). She told me that at some point given my family history, I will be needing to take something like Boniva or Fosamax (which are hard on our tummies), but that by the time I need it, they'll have something else that hopefully won't be so hard for me to take. I'm a little disappointed in the bone mass because it was my biggest concern pre-op. My mother had really severe osteoporosis, diagnosed at a young age. So I have taken lots of steps (long before having WLS) to limit my risks but still obviously am having some issues. :( Makes me sad because I don't want to be as limited physically as she was at an early age.

All else was good. My weight was pretty stable and my body fat was 18%. She looked at me at first and said "you look too thin to me" and I had to explain to her that I haven't lost any more weight, but I was exhausted from not sleeping the night before and crying because I'd been dumped by the man I was pretty head over heels in love with (and thought he was too...but if someone can give up that easily, well, I guess it wasn't really love for him...I'm still feeling pretty shocked at how it all went down, to be honest). She cautioned me to make sure I continue to eat enough, that the tendency to NOT eat during a time like this is great and would be really, really bad for me. I assured her that I know I cannot do that because I have a son who needs me.

Anyway, all is pretty good physically. My heart is broken, but I'm doing what I need to do. I admit, it's been a struggle to eat what I need to the past few days, but I'm doing it. And I'm making sure I go to the gym, and I'm getting to bed at a pretty decent hour, and I'm talking to/crying to friends as need be. I had therapy this past Tuesday night, and we made another appointment for next week. I usually only see her once every two weeks, but we both recognize that I have a tendency to start going down a bad road in my head and making this all about how I was deficient and she wants to make sure that I don't go there...so do I, to be honest. I'm fighting it really, really hard. I feel like a failure at relationships...even when I think I'm doing it right, well, anyway. She and I talked about (ok, I sobbed about) how I really want to deal with this and my issues head-on. I don't want to use food, alcohol or sex to deal with them. She said I was doing just that, dealing with them and it would hurt like hell, but it would be ok. She assured me that I was ok...that I was doing just fine and I WAS in fact dealing with my stuff.

Just wanted to update you all. I've gotten lots of support and hugs without me having to give any word to people about what's been going on specifically. I really just didn't want to talk about it. The heart will heal...but man, it just so sucks right now. I miss him. :(

Purpose

2009-01-15T11:28:00.012-05:00

Here I sit...struggling with a knot in my stomach that extends from my hips to my neck. I don't know whether to cry...I don't know that I really want to talk about it either...but I know it feels awful. And it also feels kind of numb at the same time. I also know that it's coming from fear. I feel as though I've failed in this area of my life sometimes. I get the feeling that people look at me and think I have my life so together. Well guess what? I don't.

Inside, sometimes I feel like a complete and total wreck. In fact, I feel like that a great deal of the time. But I think I've become a pretty good actress in that externally, people don't usually see that. If it gets so bad that it actually starts to spill out, well, I'm already at the point where I'm not sure how to keep pushing through. I don't actively seek ways to hurt myself, but I don't deny that I have those times when not waking up or an accident happening doesn't actually sound like respite.

There are days when I literally cannot stop the tears from flowing from my eyes while I sit quietly at my desk at work. I hide in my cube...I don't want anyone to see me this way because it's obvious that I'm hurting and if I start to talk about it at all, I'll completely fall apart. I've pushed a few people away when they've noticed the tears in my eyes and they've asked what's wrong. All I can do is say nothing and walk briskly away to splash cold water on my face. I still fear that I'm going to start crying and lose control and never regain it again. And if that happens, I'll end up back in the hospital and lose my child. I still have nightmares/dreams about being back in the hospital. I have at least a few of them each month. In those dreams, my child's care is always of great concern to me...who has him...where does he think I am...will I ever see him again.

I am tired of battling this crap in my life. I am angry that after so many years of therapy there is pain, there is daily battling my demons, my fears, my insecurities. They are all still there...despite years and years of therapy. Despite opening myself up to people. Despite trying to have a positive outlook. Despite trying to remain a person who has hopes and dreams. Despite talking to myself in my own head to talk myself OUT of these places. It is still a daily battle...and I'm really, really worn out and I feel beaten down. It is a lot of work and diligence. Sometimes I just don't want to work at it anymore.

I watch my son struggling with his own depression and I feel like I've cursed him. That all of his anxieties and worries are all my fault. Despite my best efforts to fix myself so that he may grow up healthy, I failed. Great, now by my very existence, I've hurt his life. I don't know how to reckon with that guilt.

When I feel crappy, and it starts to spill out, my insecurities about people loving me come out in full force. It's like "shit, they'll see the REAL me and realize that I'm this needy, clingy person who makes them absolutely insane and annoys them and they want to ditch as quickly as possible. How could I have ever believed that anyone could actually love me? What a fool I am!" It takes such tremendous effort NOT to allow my thoughts to stay there. I know that if I let the thoughts go there, well, the abyss will just get deeper and darker. I try to focus on how my experiences might help someone else. And when I feel like I'm a failure at even that, it seems like working through all this crap in my life has been for naught. I have nothing to offer...nothing of any value to anyone...least of all the people I really care about. If I can't be here for anyone else, what purpose do I even have here at all? I guess I still have a whole lot to learn about letting go.

My Life Is So Rich And Blessed

2009-01-05T07:05:00.002-05:00

The more I think about my life, the more I realize just how spectacular it is. That doesn't mean it always feels great, not by any stretch. But it is vibrant with activity and feelings that I actually deal with. The incredible network of friends I have forged over the years sustains me. In my friends is my lifeline, no doubt about it. And the more I open up to them, the more I realize how incredibly well suited they are to being in my life and being what I need right here, right now. I feel as though I've finally started really finding HOARDS of people who, just like me, are willing to deal with life on life's terms. As a result, we can share and bond through those common struggles. How incredible is that?

On New Year's Day, in conversation with my friend Dave, he started talking about the NOW and staying in it. I thought he was actually poking fun at me after reading my blog post. Nope. Turns out he had written something along the same lines for a newsletter he does. It really had me doing a double-take...in a positive way, and smiling.

This morning, I received an email update from my friend Vicky F. There are two paragraphs from her update that, with her permission, I am posting here because they resonate so strongly with me.

"The purpose of friendship has become the focal point of my heart. It always was the cat’s meow and now it is the lifeblood. I have spent more energy and emotion on the true treasure of living. Friends are everything. At every opportunity take the chance. The richness of living life slower with friendships is worth more than every single quarter I have ever earned. Is it an age thing? Am I beginning to realize the secret of life? Finally, eh?

I want to share a little profoundness. So many physical changes in the last few years have peeled away some armor that I used for protection. I reached out to a therapist to examine my choices of coping mechanisms. I discovered basic rules I have set for myself began before cognitive thinking was even on board. Seeking to educate myself remains my biggest joy. Discovery of the “why” in choices is very revealing. Childhood circumstances can form our lives far into the future. We can choose, every day, forever, how we apply the experiences to our lives. First we have to understand those experiences exist and affect our reason. It has been pure joy to see why I am the way I am. I see more clearly how my choices direct my happiness. My advice: Take the time to be your own friend. Love you ~~ it is miraculous."

Vicky said it so very well. So incredibly well. I share it here with you because I think it's something we all could benefit from embracing.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T09:42:00.003-05:00

It's actually 2009. Wow! The year 2008 will seriously go down in history for me. It was a year of tremendous change, physically, personally, emotionally. I continued to work on changing my body size/shape/condition, I changed jobs, I turned 40, I began dating someone seriously. I had the realization/thought the other day that my life is likely more than half over. And the past 20 years that I have grown and changed since being that young adult in tremendous emotional turmoil, well, in another 20 years I'll be nearing retirement. How did time come to move so quickly?!?!

I find myself thinking that I need to make damn sure I make the absolute best of these years I have ahead of me. Life is indeed too short to wait for anything. If I want it, I'm going for it. If I don't know what it is I want, well, then it's worth the effort to figure that out or at the very least enjoy every last second of where I'm at in the NOW. One of the books I've been reading (slowly, very, very slowly) is by Eckhart Tolle. I must admit that I have to take the book in really little doses so that I can actually grasp what he's saying. Makes me wonder sometimes if I'm just really that dense or my mind really just struggles that much with appreciating/enjoying/living in the NOW (instead of the past or future). In looking on his website this morning, this quote was there:

"When you are present in this moment, you break the continuity of your story, of past and future. Then true intelligence arises, and also love. The only way love can come into your life is not through form, but through that inner spaciousness that is Presence. Love has no form."

I think I'm going to contemplate that thought today...there's a lot there and I think it has great value. There are many things which occurred in 2008 that continuously pointed to me needing to focus on staying in the now...the lesson is apparently very necessary for me. I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions. My philosophy is that if something in my life needs to change and I recognize it, there's no better time than the present. It is always the case that one never knows when something else is going to come up. Life has a funny way of throwing curve balls and screw balls and the only thing you CAN count on is that those things will happen and you will never be able to be completely prepared for it...so best to learn how to roll with it. If I've learned nothing else in this life it's that there is no shortage of my own issues to grapple with on any given day, but it has gotten much easier for the most part over the years. Yes, there are the "core" ones that get kicked off periodically, but even those are getting easier to recognize quickly and rebound from when placed in perspective.

Happy 2009! May it be a year filled with laughter, love, learning and light!

Dangerous Neighborhood

2008-12-28T09:56:00.002-05:00

The mind...it's a dangerous neighborhood to wander in alone at times. The things we think in our heads, the things we allow to take root there...well, they can really destroy us if we let them.

My days of going into my thoughts and staying there with the negativity are so few and far between now...and I'm grateful for that. At the same time, I really dread that they still occur at all. I'm still working on learning how to cope with them. Do I share the thoughts with others? Which people do I share them with? What thoughts do I employ myself to combat the downward spiral?

I'm getting better at hearing the negatives in my own mind and saying in response to them "no, you're NOT a bad person, you're NOT a fucked up person, you're just human...and you have bad days, and that doesn't mean you're bad, and it doesn't mean you're still a basket case, and it doesn't mean you have to stay there. Remember all of the things you have accomplished in your life...the struggles you have overcome and been victorious over."

Over the past 20 years or so, after having it bludgeoned into my brain that I need to talk about this stuff or it kills me physically and mentally, I have learned to share with others, close friends/confidantes when I have days like this. Most of the time anyway. But now, I'm in new territory. I have a significant other with whom I want to share my thoughts and feelings...and at the same time, I'm terrified that if I share the days like this, well, he'll realize just how messed up I still am and it will scare him off. I think there are some things I still just need to actually learn how to keep to myself a bit more until I've processed them. I'm doing much better these days at the positive self-talk to get out of those yuck places.

Seriously...stay out of your head...as much as possible. It's not a pretty place.

And So This Is Christmas

2008-12-24T13:13:00.004-05:00

The Christmas spirit has been more elusive for me than usual this year...that is until last night and today. I have been so incredibly fortunate these past two years. Ok, I've been fortunate for way more than two years, but right now that's what I'm focused on. So much has changed since my mom passed away and I subsequently began this weight loss surgery journey...i.e., the beginning of the rest of my life.

In a conversation with my boss the other day, he remarked on how the changes haven't been just to my physical being but to everything that I am...that it has been an overall transformation. I think this is in part due to the weight loss, but I think it's also due to many other changes in thinking that I began to embrace around the same time I began pursuing weight loss surgery. The weight loss has affected my self-confidence in such major ways. I'm still me...still the same person I always was, but she's no longer hiding or ashamed or embarrassed and afraid of drawing attention to herself. As a result, I'm more outspoken and vocal. My sense of humor shines through much more because I no longer worry that people will think I'm stupid or just plain old not funny. I don't care nearly as much what the majority of people in this world think of me. I find that much easier to do when I don't have the body image issues to focus on. I'm more accepting of myself...and as such, care less about whether others accept me as I am or not.

The changes in attitude and self-confidence have affected my work, my mothering, and my personal and social lives. My life is good...it is full and happy. I learned long ago to be happy regardless of my circumstances. I have my down days, but I've really gotten much better at plodding through them, knowing they will pass and the sun will shine again. There's been one piece missing from my life for a while now though. I haven't had the adult male companionship, friendship and love that I have so desired.

My heart is big...there is so much in it that I want to share. My son gets a great deal of my love and my life. But he can't and shouldn't fill all of my needs for love and companionship. I've dated...I've blogged about my unsuccessful dates at times. And when I finally said "I just don't much care anymore if I meet someone for the long-term, I just want to have fun and enjoy my life," he appeared. I did a few things early on to dispel the notion of this relationship becoming serious. But for whatever reasons, call it fate or destiny or chance (and I don't really believe in chance), we still connected, this man and I. And now, I have fallen completely and utterly head over heals in love with him. My fears of abandonment creep in now and then. I'm sure somewhere along the line my trust issues will also rear their ugly heads as well. This man is patient, and kind, and thoughtful and understanding...and he's like me in many, many ways. He's all about the communication, and he's all about having a huge heart with much love to give. I am so unbelievably thankful right now that his heart has been given to me. The person I am in this relationship is the person I want to be in a relationship. And it happens pretty damn easily. Wow. Just, wow.

And so this is Christmas. My son and I are happy and healthy, and we have an amazing new person in our lives...and the hope of not just SOME of my dreams, but ALL of my dreams coming true has been restored. Love, hope, peace...all in time for Christmas. Does it get any better than that?

Happy Days

2008-12-16T14:34:00.003-05:00

It's been a bit since I've written. I guess I've been busy with the thoughts in my head, getting ready for the holidays, balancing work, family and new social connections. I won't say a bunch about it here just yet, but I've been dating someone that I really think is very special. It's all pretty exciting and scary. I'm doing my best, with his help, to not let my fear take over and ruin a good thing. From what I've seen and learned about him, he's really a damn fine man in so many ways. So fine, in fact, that I find myself saying "wow, could this really be???" Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts...they make all the difference in the world you know. :)

Sometimes, Validation Is Everything

2008-11-16T01:07:00.015-05:00

Last weekend, Zachary and I took a trip down to NYC to visit long-time family friends. Paul has known me since I was probably 2.5 years old, and he knew both of my parents. He and his wife, Hilda, Zachary and I got together last Saturday to visit and have dinner. Paul is a bright spot in my childhood. When my mother could no longer take me shopping because the conflict was just too high between us, it was Paul she designated as the adult in charge for my clothes shopping. He never ridiculed me for being fat (which sometimes she did), and he never made me feel badly for not having the same taste as he had in clothing.

There were many times I know my mom vented to Paul about her feelings towards me...her anger, disappointment, hurt. So many things I did caused her great pain...never did I intentionally try to inflict pain on her though. Never. As I grew up and eventually started becoming healthier mentally, I was unable and unwilling to tolerate the poor treatment that was a result of some of her own issues. When she died, our relationship was very, very strained because of the constant conflict.

Over the years, I knew that Paul heard things about me from her that I suspected made him think less of me. I only hoped that he knew enough of my mom and her own troubles that he was able to have some perspective on things and not hate me. I lived with a great deal of shame around most of my mom's friends...fearing that they thought I was a wretched, ungrateful and selfish daughter.

I sent yesterday's blog entry to Paul and Hilda to read. They have been there for me since well before my hospitalization. Hilda sent me an absolutely lovely response, and below is the response that I received from Paul. Maybe I can finally cast aside some of the shame I felt, thinking that he thought less of me as a person. He wrote:

***************************

Dear Amy,

I read your blog twice and it saddened me that a child would have to endure a life cloistered within the disturbed patterns of two people. Fortunately, Amy, an inner strength probably surfaced and helped you through unseen exits. But the conflicts that always hung around the two people--separate or together--found you.

You lived with a mother who herself lived with demons inside. They rose with Catherine in the morning and accompanied her to bed. Only she would know if they wrote the scenario for each dream. Of course there were breaks when the demons had to rest from overwork--not too often. Catherine was very intelligent, and used it not for the benefit of creating a harmonious family atmosphere, but to work in executive positions. But the inner demons voted, and none (there were many) of the positions were, after awhile, considered acceptable.

When Harvey worked at Otis elevator on 3rd Avenue and 48th Street, I would meet him often for lunch. I ended my workday around 1:15. I never, ever, saw a piece of paper or anything else connected to work on his desk. Except for himself, his cubicle was always empty. Although our conversations ranged far and wide, he always expressed a very negative, almost misanthropic, attitude. Also he was always sarcastic. Our meetings began to, and then eventually drifted into, nothing. This was before MS took over.

Of course this is only a small peek into your world where you were forced as a child to live with Catherine and Harvey. And yet Amy, you have emerged and shaped yourself into a strong and attractive woman. On Saturday there was a glow to you with a strong personality. Not one to take small steps but to stride in the world.

Zachary is a beautiful child with, apparently, a sense of self. Now I am sure, Amy, there are times when he upsets you...but then he would smile that smile--he has to melt you. You have to be very proud, particularly as a single mother. On Saturday, Zachary was the fourth adult at the table.

I am personally very sorry that you had to endure what you endured--no child should. It was a walk through Hell.

Welcome to the world, Amy. You did it. An excellent example for Zachary, who is one terrific kid.

Love, Paul

***************************

This may sound weird, but it's really reassuring to get validation like this. I think that much of what went on as a kid, I minimized in order to survive...and so sometimes, I find myself wondering if it really happened, or if I'm just making mountains out of mole hills. The validation from others reminds me that there were good reasons why I struggled as I did and ended up needing a two-year hospitalization. All those people weren't misled or lied to by me.

I never expect people to believe me. I live with this constant fear that people will think I'm lying. That in itself is another issue from childhood. There was a therapist who told my mother that I was a liar when I was 12 years old. Why? Because I expressed fear of my mom. This therapist felt that since my mother wasn't physically abusive to me, my fears were unfounded. For the record, there are lots of things to be afraid of as a child beyond physical abuse--losing the love of a parent, having their disapproval, rejection by them, etc. With that edict handed down, so many of my feelings were discredited as not being based in reality. I started to believe really that I was the problem...not everyone else.

Anyway...I feel like the people who are in my life and give me any of that validation are dying off in a way. And I fear sometimes that I will discount all that I lived and worked through when they are no longer there to say "yes, this stuff was real, the things you experienced were horrible and hellish and I lived them/saw them too." So yeah, sometimes validation is everything.

Musings on an Anniversary

2008-11-14T09:46:00.017-05:00

It was 20 years ago today (no, not that Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play) that I began an inpatient hospitalization for depression that lasted just short of two years. Yes, you read that right...two years. Absolutely unheard of these days. This is a summary of the events leading up to my hospitalization and a bit about its progression.

At the age of 20, I had for the first time in my life lost about 40 lbs. in a healthy manner, following Weight Watchers. I didn't binge, I didn't purge, I didn't starve myself. I followed the plan and I exercised. I had a new body image to deal with...and the resulting attention it drew from others.

The therapist I had seen since I was 12 years old decided that he didn't believe in long-term therapy...and as such, was preparing me for termination with him. There were times in my life where I thought he was the only human being/adult that actually cared about my well-being. I took this termination as a personal rejection and my incredibly fragile self-esteem and self-worth plummeted. He also felt that due to my history of sexual abuse, it was probably advisable that if I felt the need to return to therapy, I might want to seek the counsel of a female therapist. Within probably a month or two of his terminating with me (which was in June of 1988), I did just that...and I began seeing Martha Page Burkholder who was, at the time, working out of the outpatient mental health clinic at St. Vincent's Medical Center in the Village (NYC).

In early August of 1988, I came home one Friday night after being out drinking with some of the NYU law school students who lived in the dorm I had worked at. My mom had been to an AA meeting that night, and had seen one of our old family friends there. He informed her that my dad, who I had not seen in over four years, was in a coma at Holy Name Hospital. He had suffered with Multiple Sclerosis for many years...went on disability from work in 1974 as a result of it. I was 6 years old then. That night, mom and I went to see him at the hospital. He was brain dead but being kept alive on a respirator. Once his wife found out we'd been there, she was pretty livid and made sure that my mother would not be allowed to visit my dad again. She had no ability to stop my brother and me from seeing him, as we were also next of kin. I think she'd have done it if she could though. My grandparents on my father's side hadn't called to tell us about his condition, so I suspected they did not know and I called to tell them. Apparently, they'd had a falling out with my dad's wife and so because of her anger, she refused to communicate with them. When she found out that I had called to tell them of his condition, she was furious. The next time she saw me in the ICU visiting my dad (my brother was there as well), she launched into a tirade with me about my grandparents and mother, claiming that SHE was the real wife, and my brother, who typically stayed out of conflict with her, told her "No Ann, you're the real BITCH." Ann proceeded to yell at us that we were not his children; we were merely his biological offspring. You can imagine how well all of this went over with the nurses in the ICU. They came in to figure out what was going on, and my father's wife proceeded to tell them it was no big deal as my father had heard it all before anyway. From that point forward, she was not to be anywhere on the hospital grounds during certain hours that were deemed visiting hours for me and my brother.

My grandparents drove up from Texas and stayed for a couple of weeks. In Ann's anger, she made sure that my father, who was brain dead as determined by EEG, was on a "full code" and would be resuscitated if he went into arrest. And she made sure to hand write a sign she hung over his bed letting us know this, lest there be any confusion. She was a really hateful woman. My dad went into cardiac arrest at least three times over the two weeks my grandparents and aunt and cousin were there. Because of the full code though, he did not die and so they did not have the closure of attending his funeral. I think the hospital's way around this was to move dad down to another room from ICU that had less monitoring. He was taken off the respirator; they said he was breathing enough on his own that he didn't need it. Instead, the nurses checked on him every 15 minutes or so. My brother and I were there to visit him, on August 31, 1988, in the evening. It was the day before Andy would be heading back to college in PA, and we told our dad this. I told him that I would do my best to try and make it there every night. After we left, we went to hang out with a friend of ours. Mom called around 11 p.m. to let us know that the hospital had called and dad had died at about 10:10 p.m. that night...probably within about half an hour after we left. Ann had not made it back to the hospital to see him by then, and so Andy and I were the last to visit with him before he died. Ann was sure to tell people that we were actually there when he died and watched him die and did nothing to stop it. None of that was true, but I guess it made her feel better to tell people that.

At this time, I worked for NYU in their Graduate Housing Office. I was also attending nursing school at NYU. The union at NYU had gone on strike. It didn't take very long for me to figure out that I wasn't very good at not working during this period of time, and so I made the choice to cross the picket lines and return to work. My mind being idle wasn't a good thing at all. My boss and several of my coworkers, as well as the union president and treasurer, who sent me a sympathy card, understood...a few others did not. Despite studying for hours and hours for a chemistry exam, I failed it. First exam I ever failed. I was devastated and went to speak with my nursing adviser. She was on leave, and so I spoke with someone else about withdrawing for the semester. When I explained all that was going on, she was incredibly understanding and agreed that a leave of absence from school would probably be best. And so, I withdrew from my classes before I had opportunity to fail them.

The strike at NYU eventually ended and everyone else returned to work. Some had hard feelings towards me, and some did not. My therapy appointments continued and increased from once weekly to three times weekly. At the end of each appointment, Dr. Burkholder and I would "touch base" on our verbal contract. I'd been thinking about suicide a lot...and I'd been hoarding some of my fiorinal (for migraines), as well as trying to ascertain just how much other OTC meds I might need to complete the job. The deal with Dr. Burkholder was that I agreed to call her if I was feeling like I was in serious jeopardy of hurting/killing myself. On November 14, 1988, I told her point blank that in all honesty, if I wanted to die that badly, the last thing I would do would be to call her because she'd only try to stop me. She told me that she couldn't let me go home, and that she felt I needed to be hospitalized. I'd already been down that road before, as a 14 and 15 year old (yeah, twice), and didn't want to do that again. I begged and pleaded, and she asked me to at least let her call my mother so that she could be assured that someone at home would keep an eye on me. I was very reluctant to do that, as my mom's reaction to my self-destructive tendencies was typically one of outrage directed at me...and I wasn't up for more hatred, I already hated myself enough as was. But, given the choice between hospitalization and enduring mom's wrath, I opted for mom's wrath. After Dr. Burkholder's conversation with her though, they both apparently agreed that I needed to be hospitalized. And so Dr. Burkholder walked me over to the hospital that evening, with my backpack on my shoulder. So it began.

I stayed there until May 9, 1989. I was the youngest patient on a primarily geriatric ward for patients with depression. They felt that was a better choice for placing me than the floor that housed the neighborhood patients who tended towards the drug addicted and psychotic, as I was neither and those units were far less "stable" places for me to be. For a while, they played with different medications to see what, if any, helped my depression. By December of 1988, they concluded that my depression was more environmentally than biologically based. In other words, the situation at home contributed more significantly to how I was coping than did any chemical imbalance. As such, it was their recommendation that I be placed in a longer-term facility that offered intense therapy to help unravel some of that stuff.

In May of 1989, after completing a lengthy application and screening process, and waiting many months for a bed, I was transferred to the New York State Psychiatric Institute's (PI for short) 5th Floor. They had a research program affiliated with Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital and their College of Physicians and Surgeons on character disorders. Apparently, that was the "bucket" I fit into. So many things happened while I was there...the biggest, though, was that I was actually finally allowed (and encouraged, no less) to feel and express what I felt, without being told that I was selfish, self-centered, etc. It was made clear that stifling my feelings was self-destructive in many ways and I needed to find new ways to cope and navigate my way through life. There were still plenty of times that I wanted to die there, but they kept me safe...sometimes to my great dismay at the time.

In August of 1990, I left...not entirely with their blessing as I did it pretty abruptly and without a specific discharge plan, but they offered me their support as best they could. I moved to Bridgeport, CT and began my transition back to the "real" world. I got a full-time job at Hewitt Associates, lived with my fiancée (who was another patient I met while at PI...he was there as an alternative to incarceration...sign of things to come in hindsight), and started a whole new journey. Lots of stuff transpired during those years in CT...and even in the years since I've moved to MA. But I continue to grow and cope and deal with life on life's terms.

Here I am, 20 years later, a single mom to an amazing little boy who is the best thing to have ever happened in my life. For many years, I have kept secret my past...the shame of mental illness, depression, my hospitalization, all weighed very heavily on me and I didn't want people to judge me or write me off because of the things in my past. In therapy this week, we talked about how I'm not ashamed anymore...and while I don't go around telling everyone about this, I won't hide it anymore either and live with it being a dirty secret of sorts. I survived. I have grown. I have become, and continue to become, someone I am proud of and think is a pretty amazing person. All of my past has contributed to that...all of the people in my past and present contribute to that. It's an amazing journey, this life...it is what we make it...bottom line.

Liberty, Freedom and Patriotism...GO VOTE!

2008-11-04T13:24:00.001-05:00

This morning, as my 7 year old son accompanied me to the polls to vote, I was just smiling at the huge turnout. I was so full of pride to be showing Zachary how we check in, the ballot, how you fill in the ovals, check out and feed the form through the machine...how many people are part of this magnificent process. They've done a lot of mock "voting" at his school. Probably a month and a half ago, he came home from school and told me he had voted for President that day. And he told me he had voted for John McCain. I simply told him "Excellent! Now tell me why." He didn't have an answer to that question. I highly suspect he chose his candidate because it was what he heard many of his peers saying. I explained to him then that it's very important that he understand WHY he is choosing the candidate he selects and not to just "go with the flow." Yesterday, when I picked him up from his after school program, he was awfully cute. Over the past many weeks, he has heard many, many talks at home about the election, he has watched some of the debates with me, asked lots of questions. So yesterday he told me again that he had voted for President...and he said "mom, do you want to know who I voted for?" I said "do you want to tell me?" He said he did. I said "ok, who did you vote for?" He said (with a huge smile on his face) "Obama!" I said "Great! Now tell me why you voted for him." You know what he said? "Because I love you!" It's so simple at his age...so I told him that was wonderful and great, and that as he got older he would want to find out what each person believes in and then choose his candidate based on what feels right to him in his heart...that he'll have to make that decision for himself at some point. It's so amazing to be teaching him how to think about these things...and it's really eye-opening to think about how we form our opinions and beliefs so much from what we are raised with...I want him to (of course) have my values, but make sure they are HIS as an adult...internalized and suited to who HE is. He will get so much of what he feels and believes from being raised by me...I have to trust that he will find the best way to make that work for him in his life. I want him to be able to think clearly, critically, for himself...know the right questions to ask...and then, listen to his heart. Yeah, admittedly it is sometimes difficult to hear him say he voted for one person or another when it isn't who I voted for. I really did try to think "big picture" there. And so yesterday, after he told me who he voted for, he asked me "Mom, will Obama make the war end sooner?" I said I really didn't know for sure. He asked if McCain would make it end sooner. I told him that I didn't know that either...that I believed they both want the war to end, but they may have different beliefs and approaches as to how that should happen and when. Big picture...for a 7 year old.

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T10:14:00.004-04:00

I have some of the best coworkers...honestly. They're such an awesome and fun group of people. A few of us dressed up today for the holiday...I'm a Fire Goddess.

Getting To Know Me

2008-10-28T09:21:00.013-04:00

On one of the boards I participate, someone posted a "getting acquainted" thread. And I replied...with more info than I typically do. I figured maybe this would be a good place to re-post some of my information for people reading...to know where I've come from and where I'm at these days.

My full name is Amy and I am 40 years old. I was born in New York City. My parents were from Texas (dad) and Oklahoma (mom). Most of my extended family that I knew growing up still live in those states. I have one sibling, a brother, who is 2.5 years older than me.

I was married many years ago, and subsequently divorced, from a drug addict. I cohabitated, planned to marry, and was in the process of buying a home with my son's father...just to clarify, he is not my ex-husband; we were never married. Instead, we split up when I was 17 weeks (4.5 months) pregnant. Our son will be 8 in January and I have sole legal and physical custody of him.

After graduating high school, I began working full-time at NYU Law School both to earn money and tuitiion benefits. I attended nursing school at NYU, and eventually at Norwalk Community-Technical College, but never finished nor got my degree or RN. These days, I do not do anything even remotely related to the medical field for my work (or the work I've done for the past 9 years). I worked at NYU Law School, and then in their Graduate Housing Office, until November 14, 1988.

Something few people who aren't that close to me know is that I started out self-injuring at the age of 8. I spent most of my teen years trying to die or mutilate myself in some fashion. At age 16, I was thoroughly convinced I would end up dead or committed to an institution by the time I was 25. My father died on August 31, 1988. I hadn't seen him in over 4 years when he died as a result of his Multiple Sclerosis.

When my father died, I suffered a depressive breakdown. I was 20 years old. That resulted in a 6 month "short-term" hospitalization, which led to a longer-term hospitalization in a psychiatric research hospital (voluntarily). Total of almost 2 years. It will be 20 years ago on November 14th that I was first hospitalized for that. It was one of the hardest times in my life...but also the first time in my life I was allowed to start caring about myself first and not everyone else. It wasn't selfish to have my own feelings. It was a rare opportunity to get on the road to loving and learning to take care of myself. I know I would not be alive if not for that opportunity.

I can be somewhat of a hard ass with people...at least until they get a piece of my heart. Once that happens, well, I'm a complete and utter mushpot. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I have dreams of being a childrens' advocate someday, and trained to be a facilitator for Parents Anonymous when I lived in CT many years ago.

My favorite color is periwinkle blue, and my favorite flowers are blue bearded iris. I love classic rock, folk, classical guitar (and classical in general), blues, R&B, well, just about any kind of music except for rap. Not a huge fan of country and western, but there are a few songs here and there that I really like.

I have no tattoos, but I've contemplated getting one of an iris and butterfly. I am a serious cookie monster...when it comes to homemade cookies, I have zero self-control. So when I bake, we tend to package the bulk of the cookies up and ship them off to anyone who will take and hopefully enjoy them. And I also bring a lot of them in to my coworkers...they're always eager to devour them.

I am currently a software configuration/release engineer. It's a new role for me after being a software quality assurance engineer for the past 8 years or so. Some days, I really enjoy my job and some days, well, it's a rat race.

I currently live in northeastern MA (known as the "North Shore") next to Salem, MA (yes, the Witch City). Rich with history and I love it here. It's the first place I've lived that really felt like I belonged.

I had weight loss surgery (laprascopic RNY) almost 16 months ago, and I've lost 135 lbs. between the cardiac risk reduction program I participated in and my gastric bypass surgery (July 9, 2007). I'm currently maintaining my goal weight of 120 lbs. I pursued gastric bypass surgery because I was afraid I would die before I had raised my son. This is a comparison of my "then" photos, and my now photos. No wonder when I would lay down at night I felt like I was being strangled/choked. I had so much fat around my neck.

The Week In Review

2008-10-19T08:32:00.015-04:00

It's been kind of a wild ride this week. Zachary and I baked cookies last weekend. Aren't they beautiful? He did such a fantastic job decorating them.

I love to bake/cook, and so does Zachary. The problem for me, however, is that I don't have any self-control when it comes to homemade cookies. When we bake that means the "profits" need to be given away as quickly as possible. But, as is typically the case, I didn't get rid of enough of them or get rid of them quickly enough. I ate way too many cookies...the evil little things that they are. I had the joy of experiencing a lovely dumping episode on Monday evening that, once resolved, I felt good for abut half an hour before the predictable sugar crash ensued. The sugar crash post-dumping is almost as bad as dumping itself for me. Did I learn? Not exactly. Last night, we had a ladies night out/clothing swap. There were so many really yummy things there, and I made the mistake of trying them...which meant I liked them...which meant I ate them...more than in moderation...and so I spent a good hour and a half at the party quietly wanting to die because I felt so queasy. And then, on the tail end of the ride home the sugar crash set in.

I spent some time last night thinking "tomorrow, I'm doing protein shakes only to get myself back on track." And then this morning I thought "how is that healthy? You screwed up. Just STOP doing what you're doing and start eating as you should. JUST DO IT." So, that's where I am this morning. It really is hard sometimes to halt that internal voice that wants me to resort to diet mentality. I know that I'm not going to perfect every day, every week, for the rest of my life...I have to learn how to rebound from this crap without chastising myself endlessly OR making excuses for continuing to be lax. Sometimes I think "cripes, I've only been at goal for 2 months...I've got the whole rest of my life that I will do battle with this back and forth crap." I can't think in those terms...because although they're accurate, that's just too big of a chunk of time to manage in my mind. I don't know...maybe I'm just babbling right now.

Yesterday Zachary and I went on a really nice hike with one of my coworkers/friends and his son and some friends of theirs. Zachary had so much fun having two other little boys to keep up with. I certainly enjoyed the beautiful day, the physical activity and the ability to actually manage a hike after so much time where I couldn't. This is us at the summit of Wachusett Mountain. It was really such a beautiful day.

Monday Morning Blues

2008-09-29T09:15:00.001-04:00

I guess I'm feeling pretty decent...for a Monday. I've been having some issues of late with food getting stuck, vomiting, nausea. Last week at support group I asked others if they ever started experiencing these things kind of suddenly after having no issues for many months. The consensus was that I needed to call and see Dr. B. I called on Tuesday morning, went in Tuesday afternoon and had an endoscopy Friday with Dr. K. The result? Completely normal anatomy (pouch, staples, hook-ups, etc.) for post-RNY. Good, no GREAT, news. But, it leaves me wondering why the heck I've been having the occasional pain, the frequent episodes of food getting stuck, more frequent vomiting than I've had in at least 7 months? I have no answers...and now, I feel like I must be a hypochondriac. There's a reason why I don't call the doc without someone telling me I probably should...because I'm afraid I won't be believed because there will be nothing found. I actually usually feel surprised when a doctor comes back and says "yes, there's XYZ and this is why you're having this problem." I remember being almost damn near shocked when I had a tubal pregnancy back in 1992...as if to say "oh, you mean there really WAS a reason I was in this much pain? Really???" Yes, I suspect I know where this comes from...does it make it any easier to deal with? Nope.

I had a date on Saturday night. It was good conversation. I suspect, however, that I won't likely hear from him again. Gut feeling. But that's ok...it was good practice for getting out, meeting someone new, making conversation, and being generally more at ease with myself. I really hate dating...have I mentioned that?

I don't think the change in my dosage of Cymbalta is making a bit of difference...except perhaps I'm sleeping even more poorly than usual, so I'm taking my Ambien almost nightly. My feeling of melancholy is very much alive and well. Some days, more than others. And it means that I'm having to make sure I focus on all the reasons that I'm a decent mother, instead of dwelling on how I feel like a crappy mother who doesn't spend enough quality time with her child. Some days, I feel grossly inept at this parenting thing, as I'm sure we all do. I remind myself that this too shall pass, and with any luck, I won't have irreparably damaged my kid by the time he's grown. I can hope, right?

Good Old Separation Anxiety

2008-09-18T15:02:00.005-04:00

So I'm beginning to think that perhaps my abandonment issues are not all that dissimilar from Zachary's separation anxiety issues...and that there's a big genetic component to it. Random thoughts, I suppose.

Zachary's been having a really rough time with the start of school...none of it is new...we go through this same crap every year...for school...for camp...for any "new" thing or transition. He's got some significant and persistent issues with separation anxiety. I've dealt with this with him since he was an infant. At some point in the past few years, it became more than just "typical" separation anxiety that children experience and grow out of. He sees a wonderful counselor, who is helping him learn new coping skills that ideally will help ease some of this very real distress for him. His counselor has said that basically, I'm the only person who's always been here for him, and since we're very close/tight, I'm pretty much everything to him. That became even more apparent when my mom (Zachary's beloved Nana) died very unexpectedly in May 2006. And while it all makes sense, it definitely makes our lives challenging at times. Every morning before school, we go through the same ordeal. The tears start, and Zachary says he doesn't feel well, he has a headache, a stomach ache, his legs hurt, that he can't possibly go to school. And so the offer of an ibuprofen and a Tums is made, to help with his aches and pains. He's tenacious, let me tell you. He can persist with his complaints, crying, whining like this for a solid hour, despite me telling him that school is not optional, it's the law, he has to go, and then I tell him the discussion is over and I proceed to ignore the rest of his complaints or simply tell him that yes, I know he doesn't feel well, and I'm sorry. Note, there is NO indication that he is staying home, coming with me to work, or anything of the like. Unless he has a fever or is throwing up, he's going to school. We've done this for years, literally. It's wearing on me. I can't do this with him until he's 18 years old, I assure you. The counselor said that at some point, we may have to consider if medication might help him with some of his anxiety. That made me feel very, very sad.

Last night, before bed, he's laying there and starts talking about the stuff in his head, as he usually does, when it's time to wind down and go to sleep. He says to me "I'd rather me be taken away from you, than you be taken away from me." I looked at him and said "honey, neither of those things is going to happen, and you don't need to worry about that." He said "but mom, who would buy me food and take care of me?" I told him that even if it DID happen, I promised him he would be taken care of. These are his worries at age 7. What the hell is he going to have left to worry about as he gets older and life gets more complicated? *sigh* I wish I knew how to help his anxiety and I wish it felt like the things we're doing in the name of helping him were actually easing some of his distress. But most times, I really don't know he's feeling any better...and I know I'm not.

I wish someone could tell me why some kids think this way...and that somehow, it's a good thing in life to be a deeper thinker. But in my personal experience, I'm not convinced that's the case. I think I'd personally like to be blissfully unaware of the crap of life at times. Awareness is not something I'm able to dismiss though...and as such, things weigh heavily on me...and they always have. Another thing to have passed on to my child that I feel oh not so great about. But you know what? I think he's even MORE obsessive with things than I am. I don't remember too much of this type of stuff from when I was a kid. I remember significant events that triggered my abandonment and anxiety issues. I had a recurrent nightmare as a child that I can clearly remember and the theme there is obviously being entirely alone and abandoned. But I don't ever recall just thinking about stuff like this, like Zachary does. *sigh*

Autumn, Anniversaries, Abandonment?

2008-09-03T06:57:00.002-04:00

It's been a rough few days for me. Yesterday was really quite a crappy day all around...too much thinking and junk floating around in my head. There were a couple of people that let me lean on them yesterday, in whatever capacity they were able. I emailed Pat and Melinda, because they've been there for me for over the past year now. They both offered their words of support and encouragement and ideas. I called my doctor who prescribes my sleep and antidepressant meds and left a message for him to call me. I see him later this month, but at Pat's urging, I called him to see about getting a sooner appointment. I fought the tears on and off all day at work...not all that successfully. I know others at work saw my face and my tears...and not a single one asked if I was ok.

On the way home from work yesterday, I called one of my closest friends, Tammy. And when she asked how I was, I tried so hard to hold it together but the tears started to well and my voice started to crack, so I grew silent trying to keep it in check. She could hear it in my voice and said "I'm going to pick up Katlyn (her daughter), we'll be home in 45 minutes...come for coffee?" So Zachary and I did.

I shared with Tammy everything that has been going through my mind and heart these past few days. Things about my history she didn't have complete knowledge of, current things, and all that they trigger. Without getting into all the icky history, suffice it to say that I have some significant issues with abandonment. I don't actually ever expect anyone to stick around for me...though I still always hope for it. I'm not sure whether that is a hope I need to change or not...I guess that will be topic for discussion in therapy on Thursday evening.

This time of year just seems to trigger so much of my abandonment anxiety in spades...the 20th anniversary of my father's death was this past Sunday...half my lifetime ago. That one event altered the course of my life in so many ways. The anniversary of my son's father leaving me pregnant for a 17 year old is around this time of year. The anniversary of my ex-husband ultimately leaving. Shit, there's just a ton of stupid triggers...and I can recognize that they are in the past, that they are done, and not now...and yet they still are triggers for all these feelings. Have you ever had that happen to you? Things that you know are not rational enter your brain and kick off a chain of events in terms feelings? And it is that irrational thought part that compounds it for me and gets me so worked up...I KNOW the thoughts aren't here/now/rational, but it still comes up. As such, I'm embarrassed and ashamed to share them with anyone for fear they will say "well what did you expect?" or "that was so long ago, it's in the past." What I really need is for the person to just hear me. I don't need their judgment of me/my feelings because they are neither right nor wrong; I'm not looking for them to agree or disagree with me, or tell me that I should feel differently than I do...just hear me. Once that has happened, once all the "truth" of my feelings is out, it's like the feelings start to dissipate and I can move on and get past it.

Tammy listened to it all yesterday. And she held me while I sobbed for a minute or two in her arms. I don't have the physical reassurance/contact of a person to hold me most of the time when my heart and spirit feels like it's in pieces. There is no person at home to do that for me. Zachary can obviously be affectionate and give a hug...but that is a very, very different kind of affection than I need when I am feeling that vulnerable. I have had a really, really hard time asking for that from any friend because it feels so helpless and weak and, quite frankly, scary to me. I am trying really, really hard to learn how to let other people in a bit more...friends who have never given me any reason NOT to trust them. Tammy reminded me that we ALL have these times and things that will cause us to plummet from time to time...that none of us is alone in that. We all cope with it differently, though. She gets aggressive and angry...I get weepy and sad. She needs to be alone...I need to be with someone who makes me feel loved, accepted and safe.

For today, I feel better...and a few folks know a little bit more about me, the person, my heart, my feelings. I really do have wonderful, wonderful people in my life. And I know, have to believe, that even on the crappiest days, it WILL be ok. Just gotta give it time.

Reached Goal

2008-08-18T14:26:00.003-04:00

Several weeks ago when I saw Melinda last, we talked about my personal weight loss goal. Originally, I had the number of 115 lbs. in my mind. Well, after seeing how I look at 125 lbs. I decided that really, a better goal for me would be 120 lbs. If I didn't actually get to 120, but instead stayed between 122 and 126, that was fine by me. So, I upped my calories in an effort to try and stabilize my weight. I subsequently lost about 4 lbs. within the next week. I haven't had a weight loss that large since the first few months post-op. I let Melinda know and she said not to worry, my weight would stabilize. And it stayed pretty stable the next couple of weeks. This morning, I dropped another 4 lbs. since last week's weigh-in. We ate out (healthily, but still) 3 nights within this past week. I am down to 119.6 lbs. I'm fine with that...and pleased that I actually hit my goal though I wasn't really still striving for it. Now I want to make darn sure I don't keep losing this way. I'm already unhappy with how angular my face looks this thin and I don't want to appear gaunt/unhealthy.

This leaves me with a dilemma of sorts. Do I continue to do what I've been doing, and potentially lose 4 lbs. every 3 weeks or so? Or will it indeed stabilize doing what I'm doing? Should I be taking in MORE calories? I am so scared (to be honest) of getting "below" goal and having the mentality of having a few pounds to "play with." I've been there and done that before...and it's dangerous. I would much prefer to just continue the way I am...which means eating healthy, balanced meals frequently, and occasionally having a treat/special item that may extend my calorie range for that day, but overall balances out nicely for the week. It's more of a head thing than a body thing at that point. But I don't know...I'm kind of confused about it all and what I should be doing. So, I'm going to sit on it for a few days and try and figure it out.

The Top Ten Reasons Why Weight Loss Surgery Is NOT "The Easy Way Out"

2008-08-14T08:36:00.002-04:00

by Glenn Goldberg

This was posted by Kristen on one of the OH boards that I frequent...and I loved it and thought it would be invaluable to post here.

10. It's very expensive. Many health insurance companies don't pay for the surgery, and even when they do, co-payments and other costs add up quickly. Also, it can become very costly to constantly replenish wardrobes as the weight comes off.

9. Recovery can be very painful. Besides the pain from the surgery wound, patients may experience nausea or severe gastric distress. Patients with sleep apnea may become sleep-deprived, with all of the associated adverse affects, when they must discontinue use of their CPAP machines to avoid disturbing the staples creating their tiny new stomach pouch.

8. Recuperation can take a long time. Patients may be “out of commission” and absent from work for a prolonged period of recovery time. In some cases, patients may not be able to return to work or normal pursuits for up to 10 – 12 weeks.

7. It's hard work and a major time commitment. For optimal results, patients should engage in aerobic exercise for up to an hour daily. For bodies unaccustomed to vigorous exercise, this can be very hard. It's also a real challenge for WLS patients to learn all they must about nutrition so they can assure that their food and vitamins are sustaining their body. Finally, it can be exhausting to consciously, carefully and painstakingly chew every bit of food that enters your mouth.

6. Vomiting isn't fun. Nor is diarrhea. It may take patients many months (and frequent episodes of vomiting or diarrhea) to identify incompatible foods and to learn the practical limits of their newly reduced stomachs or digestive systems.

5. It takes extraordinary courage to consciously limit food choices for the rest of your life (and potentially limit social opportunities built around meals). For many patients, life after WLS means treating food as a fuel, not as a source of drama, excitement, comfort or a central life focus: i.e. eating to live rather than living to eat. While some procedures may be reversible, for most patients WLS is a lifetime commitment, requiring a lifetime of major lifestyle changes.

4. Weight loss surgery can be dangerous. As many as .5% of surgery patients may die from the procedure, and up to 5% may experience debilitating medical complications (especially if they listen to their peers' advice more carefully than their doctor's.)

3. It takes great bravery and strength to deflect other people's judgments and society's myths about obesity. Fat people are often blamed and shamed by family and friends with simplistic advice, unrealistic solutions, and uninformed prejudices. Whether it's for genetic or metabolic reasons, diet and exercise, willpower and discipline have never, by themselves, been enough. Our appetite regulators simply don't work. Without WLS, we don't know when we're full!

2. What gives anyone the right to judge which path is right for another? Is a person who runs a 10K taking a “better” or “tougher” route to wellness than the person who walks vigorously every day? Is working with weights better than water aerobics? Different strokes for different folks. Each of us finds our own right way, and how dare others judge our path to health and longevity! By their reckoning, the most courageous thing would be for us to suck it up and die young.

1. For many morbidly obese people, WLS may be the ONLY realistic alternative for achieving a long, healthy life. The newest research provides irrefutable evidence that body weight is largely a function of genes — just like height or a family propensity for cancer. These genes help regulate appetite and metabolism. People prone to obesity seem to gain excessive weight easily, while finding it difficult or impossible to lose it. That's why diets almost always fail and why WLS is currently the only viable weight loss option for many morbidly obese people, according to endocrinologist David Cummings of the Veterans Affairs Puget Sound Health Care System. Most people can lose no more than 5-10% off their "natural" body weight by exercising and eating wisely. Decades of diet studies show that more than 90% of people who lose weight by dieting gain it all back within 5 years. "There are exceptions, but when you are speaking of general rules, the only people who are able to lose more than 10 percent of their body weight and keep it off are people who have had gastric-bypass or other bariatric surgery," Cummings notes.

Confusion...Brain Whirling...Body Dysmorphia

2008-08-10T17:43:00.002-04:00

One of the things that has been causing great confusion in this mind of mine is my thoughts about my body these days. I know I'm not fat...but in my eyes, I'm not thin either. Others say I am. I don't feel it. I feel like I look fit, but not thin. I can look at my arms, my legs, and see muscle definition and be very pleased with how both look...but it's like it's not MY body...it's A body, but not MINE. Will it always be this way? Or will I someday be able to reconcile the body I see in the mirror with the one I see in my head? In therapy this week, I discussed this quite a bit and we talked about the need for me to do more affirmations that refer specifically to MY body, not THIS body (which is how I tend to refer to it). These arms, these legs, this stomach, not MY arms, MY legs, MY stomach. The only time my brain actually feels connected to my body (yes, I had to backspace over THIS body there and change it to MY) is when I am working out and I can look in the mirror and see my muscles moving while I can feel my heart pounding and hear my breath and feel my sweat. It all feels very surreal the rest of the time. I think it's probably typical that people who have had WLS and experienced significant weight loss take some time for their minds and bodies to catch up and be in sync. I find it particularly unsettling.

Today, Zachary and I went to brunch with my brother and sister-in-law at Denny's. Not the easiest place to find something reasonably healthy to eat, but I stuck with a veggie and cheese omelet, gave away my hash browns and so other than being higher in fat that I might like, I got in some good protein and veggies. Then we went to the mall, saw a movie, and shopped around a bit. At Old Navy, I ran into not one, but three people I know. And the first two that I ran into were chatting with each other...Maureen, from Heart and Wellness, was standing there chatting with one of Zachary's classmate's mom, who I also know. So I stopped over to say hi and I told the mom how I knew Maureen, and Maureen said "I wasn't going to say it" and I said "well I knew that, but I'm not quiet about it." Maureen gave me some kudos about how well I've done to Erica, and that really made me beam a little more. And then, standing in line to check out, I saw Sandy Skinner, who is on our relaxation CD and led relaxation and did some other education talks during my post-op Heart and Wellness program. I obviously recognized her and I thought she might have recognized me, but I wasn't sure, so I smiled and said hi, and she said hi, told me I looked great...and I wasn't sure if she had placed me just yet, but then she said "people are really enjoying your writing" and I said I was very happy to hear that. And I told her that I had just run into Maureen not 10 minutes earlier there as well. It felt like affirmation to me to be out and about, and seeing people, and being confident enough to approach people and say hello. I feel "normal" and not like some fat freak most of the time. The weight loss has definitely made a tremendous impact on my ability to socialize.

Dating...well, I'm on both match.com and eharmony now. Neither are proving to be particularly fruitful these days. I will continue to do my best to put myself out there and maybe someday meet someone. There are times when I feel like the years of my life are spinning by too quickly and I don't want to run out of time to enjoy my life. I don't think I ever held that perspective before. Despite my confusion about my body and my brain, I guess I'm still feeling very positive overall about my life and the changes I've made in it.

My brother asked me today about how my coworkers have reacted to my weight loss. We talked a bit about that, and he also said that it will effect my career in ways that he imagines I haven't probably even thought of. For example, he said that they have now seen me take care of my own health and be consistent in my efforts to manage my health issues, my weight, continue to move forward daily, and that they also know health-wise, I take care of myself and so my reliability/dependability because of health issues is less likely to be a problem as I continue to work there. I never thought about it in those terms, but he's right. They've learned quite a bit about me, my character, what is important to me, my determination by something that is completely unwork-related but still bodes well for me in the work environment.

A couple of weeks ago, my brother gave me an apology for, as he put it, not necessarily always giving me the benefit of the doubt or thinking about my perspective when our mom used to talk to him (read that as complain to him) about me. He said that he realizes now that her perspective was likely very skewed and that as a result of him taking the situation at face value from her vantage point, he'd done me a disservice. He wanted me to know that he was sorry for that as it probably effected our relationship quite a bit then. I told him not to sweat it...that I learned a long time ago that there is always his side, her side, and somewhere in between is "the truth." As such, I try very, very hard to be a good listener in any situation but not place any judgment on the things I've heard because frankly, I haven't lived in either party's shoes. I'd like to think that in the couple of years since our mom has died, he and I have gotten to be closer (at least a little) directly, without mom's manipulative interference to color either of our perspectives on the other. I'm a direct person...I'm an honest person...and so, when I've had an issue with my brother, I've dealt with him with it directly...usually without anger or harsh words. I think he's learned a bit about who I really am, and how that person is different from who he thought I was based on the things he heard from our mom. I know it's a good thing...and it reassures me that if I am true to myself, everything will work out as it should.

Thoughts On Maintainance

2008-07-30T07:43:00.000-04:00

At a little over a year out, I still weigh and measure everything. I still food journal daily. I have begrudgingly increased my calories, afraid that I will regain...or that my body will adapt to the new intake levels and start up with the chronic, insatiable hunger again. I am constantly afraid that these bouts with being unsatisfied (I'm usually pretty satisfied these days), unfull (which I am, most of the time...my measured portions do not fill me up but they DO satisfy me) will just continue.

This, this is the hard work I think of being further out...and I am so very early in the further out stages. I have a lifetime ahead of me. It's work. Make no mistake about it. It's about diligence in my mind and habits. It's about that constant awareness to determine if it's real hunger, head hunger, or something else. It's about learning to accept that I'm not always going to do this perfectly, but that doesn't mean I am going to go into a downward spiral like I always have in the past. I have more armor to help me in the battle than I have ever had before. I just have to remember to use it.

One Year Follow-Up at Heart & Wellness

2008-07-17T11:28:00.006-04:00

I had my one year follow-up with my after (and in my case, before) care program. I met with Melinda today and will meet with Ellen next time I go in October. We reviewed my labs, all looked good. No anemia, so upping the iron has helped. My HDL cholesterol has come back up (it was below the normal range last November, it is now 54), and my LDL has continued to drop (it is 83). My overall cholesterol was 142, and my ratio was 2.7. Triglycerides were also down. :)

We used the Tanita Body Composition Analyzer to get a weight, BMR, etc. etc. My weight came out at 125, my BMR is 1301. To maintain my current weight, I need a minimum of about 1600 calories daily, possibly more. I have decided to revise my goal weight to be 120 (from 115). If I get there, fine; if not, that's okay too. My body fat percentage was actually low (in the athlete range) at 20.5%; essential fat is 12 to 15, athlete is 16 to 20, fitness is 21 to 24, acceptable is 25 to 31, obese is 32 and above. So I'm lean...I guess this flabby stuff really IS skin and not so much fat.

Melinda and I talked about the issues I've been having with horrible, quick onset fatigue, typically when working out. She said "yeah, it's called hitting the wall." And it's happening because my body's glycogen stores are gone. The reason eating has not improved the symptoms is because the things I'm eating are protein and vegetables...and what my body is needing is energy/carbohydrates. She told me "you're an athlete, your body is functioning like an athlete, and you need to start thinking like an athlete and fuel your body that way. You need an actual energy bar, not a protein bar, or at bare minimum, some Gatorade or fruit juice mixed in with your water during your workout. You'll feel a huge difference." I'm going to start putting about 8 oz. of Gatorade in my 20 oz. water bottle that I consume while I'm working out. Hopefully that will help. My daily fat intake at 30% of my calories would be 53 grams...so I've been low on that most days. Overall, it was a really good appointment.

I have to say that when she told me "you're an athlete, you need to start thinking like one," I just about cried. I've never been an "athlete"...not for any length of time. It feels great to know that the hard work on my body has paid off and shows.

Lots On My Mind

2008-07-14T15:20:00.005-04:00

I have so much on my mind lately. I'll be changing roles within my company in the next several months. I'm feeling both excited and scared about the challenges and doing the job well. I have the greatest fears about being inadequate, letting people down, doing a poor job. Last week in therapy, I briefly talked about my feelings of being an imposter, thinking that someday everyone will realize that I'm not as bright as they think I am...that I've had them all adequately snowed/fooled for years. My therapist said we'll have to talk about that one more in-depth next time.

I've also been pondering changing my goal weight. When I first started pursuing weight loss surgery, I had in mind a goal of 125 to 130 lbs. It wasn't ideally where I wanted to be, but I knew I could be "happy" there, feel better, be fit, active, look normal. And then, when the weight loss started and seemed to go so well, I thought well maybe setting my ideal goal isn't such a bad thing, maybe I can attain it. For the past 2 months or so, my weight has been pretty stable. I have lost, at best, 3 lbs. The scale has reported my weight as anywhere between 124 and 128.5 lbs. My clothes fit, I'm healthy, feel well, have a normal BMI, look fit and trim (if not thin), so perhaps my original goal of 125 to 130 lbs. wasn't off the mark. I'm not willing to eat less or work more than I do now to lose more. If my weight stabilizes here, that will be fine. If I lose a little more, that's ok too. I've struggled with whether to officially change the goal as stated on my ticker and in FitDay. I know it sounds silly, but I feel like somehow, by changing it there I'm giving myself some kind of out, taking the easy way out. I know it's not rational. I'll be discussing it with Melinda and Ellen on Thursday, I think.

I've also been thinking quite a bit about my potential to have more children. As I get older, and I remain single (despite my best efforts), the reality of me meeting someone and adding on to my family becomes less and less likely. I have never done particularly well with hormonal birth control, and barrier methods have proven less than comfortable for me (latex and spermicide sensitivities). As a result, I am also having a consult with my OB/GYN on Thursday to discuss the possibility of getting an IUD. I have always read that I would not be viable candidate because of my previous tubal pregnancy. But, I'm going to ask because I'm not quite ready to consider tubal ligation...though I imagine it's something we will also discuss on Thursday while I'm there. And it makes me feel really sad.

Zachary has been having a really difficult time lately. Last week, he went into a complete meltdown about eating his dinner. That led to him being unable to calm himself down because he started thinking about (dwelling on) his size, his "friends" at school teasing him about his small stature, and he finally asked if I could please just help him calm down. I asked him how I could do that and he said "just say something nice to me." My heart broke for him. And we had a very long talk and cuddle session. We spoke about the importance of friends being kind to each other and treating each other well. A person who makes another person feel badly about himself is not really a friend. This was very distressing to Zachary since he considers some of these children who have said mean things to him to be his closest friends. From there, he went on to be upset about how he has only one friend who isn't mean to him. We talked more about that, and we listed all of the people who ARE good to him. I stressed the importance of him sticking with the people who treat him well, who are good to him, and that he does not deserve to be treated badly by anyone. I also gave him some strategies that I hope he will consider using when people do say and do mean things...because they will, that is how life is sometimes, unfortunately. But it made for a very sad evening for him, and as a result, for me.

Last night, as he was heading to bed, Zachary was telling me how lucky he is to have been born. I ask him why that is, and he said "well because usually people aren't born to people who aren't married, and you weren't married." I said "well actually lots of people have children when they aren't married. It's not the only way obviously, but there are many people who have children when they aren't married." Then he said he misses his dad and wishes he could spend more time with him. I asked him if he had told his dad that he would like to spend more time with him and he said no. I said "well, you could try having overnights again with daddy, and that would give you more time with daddy." He said that he didn't want that, that he meant more like he wanted a week. I said "well, we can talk to daddy about that too, but if you spent a week with daddy that would include overnights too." And then he said "I wish you and my dad had been married." I asked him why that was and he said "because then I could spend all the time with both of you, not so much time driving back and forth in the car. I'm really sad." I told him I understood that and I was sorry.

He's a deep little thinker, my little guy. He has asked lots of questions about things I would never have thought he'd ask at this age. I've always answered him honestly, and tried to deal with whatever feelings he had as a result. But it's hard sometimes...and it tugs at my heart strings.

All In A Year's Work

2008-07-09T07:24:00.003-04:00

I know it's typically "Day's" work, but today, it's been one year since my bypass surgery. It's hard to believe that a full year has passed already. It's really been quite a year (well, and a little more if I include Cardiac Risk Reduction and everything else). I know I'm the same person I was, but I feel like a different person with a different outlook, a different body, different aspirations. I feel like I have life ahead of me now, instead of it being some chore I'm muddling through.

There are many new anxieties since I'm so very close to maintenance of my weight. Number one on that list is regain. I'm petrified of it. I've never in the past managed to keep my lost weight off. In all honesty, I can't even say I know what it was that has derailed me in the past. All I can focus on is the here and now, and making sure I don't get off track. One day, one minute, one second at a time it seems.

To celebrate, I did a little shopping. I haven't bought many clothes except for bras and underwear. I've been ever so fortunate in that I've been clothed by absolutely fabulous hand-me-downs from my cousin. She has fantastic taste in clothing and she's short and teeny like me. I decided to splurge a little on some dresses, because I have none of those. I'm sure they (and I) will look a lot better when I've done my hair and makeup.

Food Transgressions

2008-07-02T16:53:00.004-04:00

Let's talk about transgressions...my food transgressions the past couple of days specifically. Monday night, Zachary and I went to dinner at Vinny T's. I had one piece of bread from the basket, torn into bits and dipped in olive oil. It's my "treat" when we go there. And it always helps to keep my digestive track running smoothly. For dinner, I ordered the gorgonzola, apple and walnut salad with grilled chicken on top. And of course Zachary and I had, in no time, eaten the entire head of roasted garlic (he's worse than I am these days at scooping out the cloves with his knife and eating them straight, not even spread on the bread). Anyway, when dinner arrived, I focused on eating my chicken first, and it was yummy. I didn't finish it all, but I worked on the salad (lettuce and cheese first). Lastly, I finished with the apples and walnuts. Yup, I ate the whole thing except for probably about 2 oz. of chicken. And I felt ill. Really, really ill.

At first it was just an overfull feeling (not pain, just really overfull). But then I started feeling really hot and sweaty. I thought "oh great, I'm going to dump...just great." We finished and we left the restaurant and went home after stopping quickly at Bed Bath and Beyond. I was doing ok except for the really gross overfull feeling. But I got more and more uncomfortable the more time passed. I got into pajamas (it was maybe 7 p.m.) and I asked Zachary to do the same. And then, I went to lay down on the couch beside where he was playing Guitar Hero...because I sure as heck wasn't capable of sitting upright. I felt that carb coma feeling...it actually feels like being ridiculously drunk/out of it, without the "good" part of being drunk. I cursed myself for eating the whole salad and the one piece of bread. An hour and a half after finishing dinner, I was still miserable. I told Zachary we were going to bed. He wasn't tired. Too bad, I said...I am incapable of staying up at this point and you can't stay up on your own. It's 8:30...you can read in bed but you need to be in bed." He complied. And I pretty much passed out. Unable to get comfortable because my stomach hurt, I don't know how I actually fell asleep (passed out is more like it), but I did. It was several hours before I woke up and realized that I finally felt better. Blech.

Fast forward to Tuesday evening and a work party/bbq at a coworker's home. I plan to eat clean. Some grilled chicken and some salad. Well, some events transpired at work late in the afternoon and so I indulged in about 2 oz. of a frozen mudslide drink when I first arrived at the party. It was enough that I felt it, but not too much, and I didn't want anymore. And I ate my chicken and steak and salad. And I had some potato salad. And then I had some of this dessert that had crushed vanilla wafers and pineapple and butter and whipped cream. And then, maybe an hour later, I ate the cupcake that Zachary had licked all the frosting off of. And about an hour after that, I started snacking on Doritos and some dip. And then, I felt really, really sick. Wishing I could just go in a corner and die somewhere for a few hours sick. After feeling that way for an hour, I took two Rolaids...which promptly made me finally sick and not much of anything came up but I could still taste the damn mudslide. And then, I started to feel less queasy. Finally. And then, my blood sugar started to crash and I had to eat an apple to keep from feeling like I would pass out. Then, we went home and went to bed. It was late, I was spent, and disgusted with myself and grateful for my tool.

This morning I woke still feeling queasy and with a pounding headache. It was as though I had a killer hangover, from 2 oz. of mudslide. Even the protein drink I opted for this morning for breakfast didn't feel good going down. My tummy has recovered throughout the day, and I've eaten "cleanly" all day. And I've thanked my lucky stars for this tool I have to remind me just how crappy it feels to abuse my body with food. Alcohol isn't the issue...I don't miss drinking, wasn't drinking really before I had surgery. But now? Well, I just see no use for it in my life ever. None. Thankfully. It's an easy choice.

Food, on the other hand, I'm sure there will be other days that my demons come to haunt me. I likely will cave to temptation again at some point. I hope it's a good long time from now though...and that's up to me. Because I want it to feel this cruddy again. The validation that I made the right choice in having RNY is wonderful. As cruddy as my body feels today (and last night and the night before), it really is a validating experience.

Weepy Days and PMDD

2008-06-24T09:26:00.001-04:00

This month, I decided to try and NOT take my Lexapro for my PMDD to see how I do. I take a low dose for the one week before my period actually starts. This morning, suffice it to say I can tell that I'm not "right." I feel weepy, overwhelmed, tired and just generally too emotional for things not going on in my life. My life is pretty stable and quiet. It's good. There isn't really much for me to be feeling this way about, yet I feel like I could spend my day crying. At least (so far anyway) I haven't been having the horribly outrageous desire to eat everything in sight. Tomorrow morning I will taking my piddly 5 mg dose of Lexapro and see if it helps. I really hoped/thought that when the weight loss slowed down significantly, I'd handle my PMS better (not that I ever did in the past, but I was hoping). I'm to feeling that way at all today...and it stinks.

Losing Vs. Maintaining Weight

2008-06-15T09:15:00.003-04:00

My home PC is still dead. The new one has not yet arrived, and neither has the power supply I ordered to replace the dead one in hopes of making a more methodical transfer of data from the old PC to the new PC when it arrives. In any event, I have written down everything I've eaten, but without all the custom nutritional info I have added in my PC version of FitDay, I don't have a hard number of my calories, fat, carbs, fiber, etc. I suspect (as I logged one of my days in the online version of FitDay just to get an idea) that my calorie intake has been between 1200 and 1400 daily. I usually still stick to 1200 and below. My weight is up about a lb. this week, as opposed to losing anything. And yes, I'm semi-freaking out about it. I have about 13 lbs. to get to MY goal. The reality that I may not get to my goal without having to significantly change what I'm doing now (exercise more, eat less) hit me this morning. And I'm trying to feel ok about that. I have a normal BMI, I'm within the normal weight range for my height. Realistically, I'm fine right where I am. But I am still grappling with disappointment and it sounds stupid, even to me, to be complaining about...but it's weighing on me, that I may not make MY goal for me. It is definitely a shift in thought patterns going from losing to maintaining. I have felt fat all week. I know that isn't reality, at least, logically I do. But I feel like I have this paunch of a belly and my leanness is in question. I still made it to the gym 3 times for cardio this week, and 2 times for weights. Yet I feel like somehow, I'm fatter and more out of shape. Therapy ought to be fun tomorrow night, huh?

Ok...A Positive

2008-06-09T15:40:00.004-04:00

My buddies Martha and Kevin are on the cover of the Spring/Summer 2008 edition of "The Healthy Life," a publication from NSMC. Way to go Martha and Kevin!

Weight Loss Family Style is the name of the article. WOO HOO!

*&!^%ing Electronics!

2008-06-09T14:30:00.003-04:00

My home PC has crapped the bed. The power supply (I think) went kaput this morning. Not a huge deal you say, right? Well, for me, it's causing me tremendous anxiety. Why? A few reasons. First and foremost, for the past 11 months I have logged my food intake and exercise every day. It has helped me feel in control of my own body and life with regards to my health and weight. Yes, when I get a new PC I will be able to access all of this data. But until then? I feel like I'm blind. I feel like I know nothing on my own without all my customized food values, exercise log, etc. And it's really truly pissing me off and causing me anxiety. Secondly, I work from home many an evening after Zachary has gone to bed. If I can't power up the PC, I can't log on to my work PC and do any work. That makes my flexibility here at work more limited. Thirdly, I have a part-time, home-based business that has all of my data (inventory, sales, etc.) on my PC. Fourthly, much of my person-to-person contact, if you can call it that, with other weight loss surgery folks in my program and on OH is through Yahoo! Messenger during non-work hours. No PC, can't do that either. I feel cut off from my support in some ways as well as my tools. I have many tools, only one of which was my surgery. I have others, like my ability to connect with other people, the tracking of my food and exercise for nutrition and fitness goals. Without free access to all of those tools, well, I'm feeling very out of sorts today.

The Mental Battle

2008-06-05T12:42:00.001-04:00

These past couple of weeks, I am doing some kind of serious mental battle...and I have no idea what or why. I want to eat constantly. I never feel full. I have done just fine with not giving in to the urges...but I'm really feeling quite frustrated with where they are coming from. I figure there must be something emotionally going on with me that I am feeling this driven to eat, but all of my attempts to figure out what are fruitless. Do you think even with therapy, support, the tool, we are able to ever truly figure out all of our food issues and conquer them? I'm terrified that, at 11 months out, I'm going to start to fail. The only "basis" I have for this is past experience...and I know that circumstances, because of my surgery, have never before been what they are now. My success or failure is really entirely dependent upon me and utilizing my tool. I am doing this. But I just feel so anxious and scared. Is this normal for folks approaching a year out? Nearing maintenance?

I'm glad I will see Dr. B and Melinda/Mary Ellen next month for my one year follow up. And I'm really glad we have support group in another couple of weeks. I feel whacked in the head lately, and I honestly have no idea why. :(

Zachary in the Paper

2008-06-02T21:30:00.005-04:00

I guess we're keeping it all in the family these days with the Salem News. I had therapy tonight and my therapist says to Zachary "I saw your picture in the paper." And I looked at her and said "WHAT?!?!?!" I had no idea. I found it online, and she dug through the recyclables and found the hard copy picture and is mailing it to me. How very cool and cute. There he is, sitting attentively with his buddy Griffin. :) Salem News

Fabulous 40

2008-05-31T11:49:00.004-04:00

That's what I'm calling it. The age where I no longer care if my opinions, thoughts and feelings are satisfactory to someone else...they are mine and mine alone.

My body size is about half what it was when I started this journey. And here are a couple of pictures taken yesterday on my birthday

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A Rough Week

2008-05-29T23:10:00.005-04:00

I will be 40 in oh, about 52 minutes at the time I start this post. Yes, my 40th birthday is May 30th. And I have myself convinced that 40 will be my age of self-confidence and self-assuredness. I can think what I want, say what I want, feel what I want and really, if someone doesn't like it, that's just too bad. I don't need to make excuses for who I am. At least, this is what I'm telling myself.

Last weekend we had company from out of town and so eating out happened a few times. I don't do very well at controlling my portion size when I eat out and have super duper yummy stuff. I always eat good stuff, yummy stuff...but super duper yummy stuff, well, that's another level. I think it helps make it super duper yummy stuff when someone else makes it...someone who isn't necessarily trying to keep it healthy low fat and high protein. So, I ate more than I should, and bloated up. After 2 days back on track, all is right with the world again. I feel like, at least at this moment, I handle my setbacks a little better...I treat them more as minor transgressions as long as I don't allow them to continue more than a day or so. Admittedly, it scares me to even go an entire day without everything being weighed and measured before I consume it.

Yesterday morning, I got a phone call from a very close friend. One of my best friends was in a serious motorcycle accident on 128 South on Sunday evening and her husband called to let me know. My heart sank when I saw his name/number on my cell phone caller ID because it's not typical for him to call me. My first question was "what's wrong???" And he filled me in on what happened. Tammy has a quite a few broken bones, they've operated on her ankle to put some plates in there, and she has a few internal injuries, but no head injuries and nothing she won't eventually recover from. She was moved out of from ICU today, which is wonderful, wonderful news. I saw her last night and despite the medicated loopiness, she was all Tammy...heart, soul and sense of humor. I'm so relieved she's going to be ok...and I miss her like crazy. I'll be glad to see her again and talk to her tomorrow night. I may bring some cupcakes or something to celebrate my birthday with them. I'm really, really glad she's still around for it. :)

Off Limits

2008-05-18T09:35:00.002-04:00

That's it. Some places just need to be off limits for me. And I'm just so mad at myself and trying to let it go today and move on. We (me, my son, my brother and sister-in-law) went to a local Italian restaurant that I love for dinner last night...at my request because I haven't been there in over a year. Yeah, well there's a damn good reason I haven't been there in a year. I have no self-control there.

They have baskets of focaccia they bring out along with whole heads of roasted garlic in olive oil. I ate (no joke) most of the garlic from two HEADS of garlic. My son ate the rest. Spread it on bread? Nah...just eat it straight. But, I did have some bread...one 2-cubic inch sized piece. Then, it was on to dinner. I had the warm tomato salad (yummy baby spinach, plum tomatoes sautéed briefly and then served with goat cheese and balsamic vinegar and olive oil, along with three grilled crustini--yes, more bread). I also ordered one meatball for my protein, and I ate that first. Oh, aren't I a good girl??? Then, I ate the whole salad. Including the three pieces of crustini. OMG...the bloat, the gas, the absolutely wretchedness of knowing I blew my calories refined carbs way out of the water yesterday in that one meal...the amount I could actually eat...WHY DID I DO THIS????

I'm still killing myself with roasted garlic farts today. Yes, the farts smell just like the garlic that went in (sorry, I know it's gross, but I have a date later this morning and I've taken Mylanta Gas twice now, to no avail). And tomorrow is weigh day. Damn restaurant is obviously off limits for me now. I had glimpses last night though of never reaching my goal...of regaining all of my weight. And it scared me absolutely silly. :(

Joyful Friday

2008-05-16T07:23:00.004-04:00

Or as one OH'er put it, happy dump day for me! Don't laugh (too hard)...and not to be gross but...I am so friggin happy right now because I just had THE MOST JOYFUL POOP that I have had in many, many years. I swear. It was plentiful, easy to come out, and caused no pain. How much better than that can you get?? I'm hoping it's actually possible that I've finally found the right combination of things that works for me! I really am easy to please. :)

It's Friday...and it's been a really, really long week. I'm breaking slightly from "tradition" in talking about my work, but it's been a heck of a week. Lots of stop and go, hurry up and wait, and let's do this whole thing over again. I'm grateful that I have what I consider to be really good working relationships with my coworkers, and we all have good senses of humor. Otherwise, we'd all seriously be hurting each other in knock-down, drag-out brawls. I dreamed about work stuff last night, which is always an indication to me that it's getting to me. That all just means it's a very, very good thing that it is Friday.

I also dreamed last night about messing up my tires on my car...needing to replace one of them because I ruptured the sidewall by hitting a curb. And the closest place I could find basically would not replace just one tire, but only would sell me all four, at a cost of $500 each. And in my dream, I was fairly freaked out about spending $2K just to be able to drive my car. Gee, do you think that money stuff is weighing on me too?

My dreaming tends to be cyclical. I have these periods where I have all kinds of very vivid dreams and I remember them quite clearly. It will last for a few weeks. And then, it stops. And in a month or two, it will cycle back again. Usually, they are nightmares and such. I've had issues with nightmares since I was a small child. At the age of 4, I started having a recurrent nightmare that I still remember quite clearly to this day. It actually makes me really sad to think about it and what it means, because it's pretty clear to me as an adult what it was about.

Monday, Monday

2008-05-12T06:48:00.002-04:00

I'm not ready for the weekend to be over. I want a do-over so I can have two more days off. Is that possible? *sigh*

As for my date Friday, it went well. I'm not going to say too much more than that. Yes, I'm still afraid of jinxing it. He reads my blog from time to time, and well, I have to keep some mystery going on some things, don't I? Yes, another date is planned.

My very long-time friend Susan had her 40th birthday yesterday. I have mine the end of this month. We were talking about how much we've kind of been dreading it until the past few weeks. It seems we've both adopted the attitude of "hey, I'm 40, I'll do what I want, say what I want, feel what I want, like it or lump it." She's waiting to see how much trouble that gets her into...I personally just don't much care at this point. Trouble, here I come.

Mother's Day was nice. We went up to my brother and sister-in-law's and had an afternoon dinner with them. Zachary made me a lovely "MOM" banner of paper in my favorite color, decorated and cut out by him. It is now affixed to my door and looks awesome. And I had the loveliest card from him as well. He even made cards for me from the cats and from all of our Webkinz. He told me he loved me at least 10 times yesterday, assuring me each and every time that it was mother's day you know. I asked him if he wouldn't be telling me as much if it wasn't, and he said "well, I usually only tell you once a day." Not entirely true, but no matter...he can tell me he loves me any time he wants. It comes with wonderful hugs and kisses and that makes me happy.

Back to the dating thing...ok, so it's a good thing that I am direct and blunt with people in my life as well as in my blog or else this could get sticky. But because I'm direct and honest, there are no surprises to folks in my day to day life. I feel scared of caring too much...of opening up my heart and being hurt. I'm doing my best to go with the flow and enjoy every moment, but I gotta admit, the anxiety is not something I enjoy. I'm tired of thinking "better to have loved and lost than to have never loved" is a way of life. It's possible to love and NOT lose, isn't it???

10 Months Out

2008-05-09T09:38:00.002-04:00

As of today, May 9th, I am 10 months out from my surgery last July. It's been a really wild ride this past year. My emotions have been all over the board, particularly the first 6 or 7 months. The last 3 or 4 months have really settled down (as my weight loss slowed). I'm glad for that. It was like being on a constant PMS cycle.

I've upped my iron as Melinda and I talked about now that my bum is healing. I hope that will help resolve some of the fatigue I've been feeling. It's 9:40 a.m. and I'm already in need of a nap. Pitiful.

I also have a date tonight. Yes, a date. It's actually a second date. The first was last Sunday and it went well. I didn't want to write about it for fear I'd jinx it...but he still wants to see me tonight, so I figured I'd mention it...just casually. :) He knows about my weight loss surgery and he cares enough to want to understand how it has effected me, what this year of change has been like for me. He also knows about my blog, and he's read it. And he STILL wants to see me tonight. Am I lucky or what?

Zachary has started baseball season and he's loving it. He's so attentive to the coach, follows his directions, listens to everything he says, he just wants to do it all right. It makes me very, very proud because not all of the other 7 and 8 year olds are giving it their full attention. I had my moments where I felt really angry that he hasn't had a guy to work with him on this stuff until now...he should have had that years ago with his father, but hasn't. I'm glad he's getting that time and attention now at least.

Cinco de Mayo

2008-05-05T18:15:00.004-04:00

Lots of folks are celebrating today as Cinco de Mayo. In our household, this is the anniversary of my mom's death. She died two years ago today, at about 6:50 p.m. We scattered her ashes in the Atlantic Ocean on the one year anniversary of her death. I've thought of her quite a bit today...it's really hard to believe it's already been two years. So much has changed in that time.

Zachary started school full time. He's playing baseball for the first time. Opening day was Saturday and he looked so darn cute in his uniform. Isn't he just the cutest?

I've made huge changes in my lifestyle and shed well over 100 lbs. I am venturing forth into the dating world, even if somewhat cautiously at times. She'd be proud of us both and how we've handled our lives and the changes in it.

Yesterday, my friend Tammy came over and led a guided meditation with me with the hopes of making a connection with my mom's spirit. And I think we were somewhat successful as I could very vividly hear in my mind a song my mom used to play on the piano from Paint Your Wagon called "I Talk To The Trees." There is no other reason that this song would have started sounding in my head and so that was kind of cool. The bag of scarves that was my mom's no longer smells like her. It did for a very long time...but yesterday, when I took one of the scarves out to have with me during our meditation, the smell was gone, and that made me feel a bit sad.

I wonder if some of the changes I have made that have affected my attitudes and moods and self-confidence would have improved our relationship at all. And it's really a pointless train of thought to go on, but nonetheless my brain goes there from time to time.

Yesterday when Tammy and I were out on my balcony, we noticed that a dove had built a nest and laid an egg in an ashtray that is out on the balcony. Today, there were two eggs. I guess we'll watch and wait to see if they hatch in time. Spring really is trying to spring around here...even if the weather has been cold and damp. No matter what the anniversary is, the cycle of life always just continues on. And as hard as that is sometimes, I know it's a good and necessary thing. Time heals and fades pain.

How I Do It

2008-05-02T10:32:00.010-04:00

The below is the program I work, customized for and by me with the guidance of Melinda (my nutritionist) and Ellen (RN at Heart and Wellness). It's working for me, I feel great, and I'm still losing (though slowly, that's expected at this point). As part of my program, I have up to 1200 calories daily that I may consume, more if I exercise regularly (which I do). I still tend to stick to the 1200 calories daily, though on occasion I go a little higher. I have basic guidelines to follow with regards to where those 1200 calories come from. My daily goals are:

Always, always, always, eat protein first
No drinking of any fluids half an hour before or after meals; no drinking with meals
Eat frequently...preferably 5 to 6 times daily; I have 3 "meals" and 2 to 3 "snacks" daily; every snack has protein; I eat approximately every 2.5 to 4 hours
Minimum of 60 g of protein daily; I have set my personal goal to be a minimum of 75 g, and I usually get in between 80 g and 110 g daily
Minimum of 64 oz. of water; my personal goal is 100 oz. or more
Minimum of 25 g of fat, maximum 40 g of fat
3 to 4 servings (a serving is typically 1/2 cup cooked) of vegetables daily
1 to 2 servings of fruit daily
1 to 2 servings of dairy daily
Minimum 25 g of fiber daily, maximum of 45 g
Whole grains to balance out the rest of the day and to get in fiber

I exercise for 35 minutes, 3 to 5 times per week, on the elliptical at a level 11, getting my heart rate up to about 85% to 90% of my maximum heart rate. Then, I stretch out for about 5 to 10 minutes. I also do about 15 minutes of strength training 2 to 3 times per week.

I do my best to select foods/snacks that have single digits (less than 10) for grams of sugar per serving. I personally don't typically eat white flour, white sugar, white rice, white potatoes, etc. anymore. I won't say I never eat them because I do have the occasional treat that may have these items in them. Typically though, I choose whole wheat or whole grain items. I don't eat much bread at all, and very, very seldom eat pasta, even whole or multi-grain. The more refined carbs I eat, the more I seem to crave them. I try to choose foods that are low on the glycemic index.

Most of my "meals" consist of 3 to 4 oz. of lean protein (chicken, fish, seafood, lean red meat or pork), and 1 cup of veggies. At breakfast I don't do meat and veggies, but I do select other foods high in protein along with whole grains. Meals take between 20 and 30 minutes for me to eat if I'm taking the time I should, and putting my fork down between bites so I'm waiting at least 30 seconds between swallows. Most of my meals are between 150 and 300 calories. Snacks are typically between 100 and 200 calories. I also have my regular vitamins and minerals that I take daily.

Given the fact that my pouch can only hold so much, every single item I put into my body needs to satisfy both my nutritional needs as well as my "soul" needs for food. I won't eat anything I don't like...but that doesn't mean I will choose to eat crap just because it tastes good.

I think that a balanced diet that focuses on lean proteins and whole foods like fruits and vegetables and whole grains first, limits or eliminates refined carbs, embraces plenty of non-carbonated (no more soda for me, ever, not even diet) and non-sugared fluids and regular exercise is good for anyone.

I know I've said a whole lot in the above...but it is basically the program I follow. Any food is ok in moderation. ANY food. Choose carefully. Daily, I actually end up consuming anywhere between 100 probably 175 g of carbs. Some folks freak out when they see my carb counts...but the source of those carbs is more important (to me and to Melinda). My carbs are primarily coming from milk, fruit, veggies, and whole grains. Balance is so important.

Finally Feeling Better

2008-04-24T20:18:00.011-04:00

I was feeling really good and then on Monday, the stitches sort of came out (I won't go into details of how, but it was during a normal biological process). As such, it left me with a semi-open wound in a very sensitive area and well, it was very painful and throbbing...so much so that I really wished I could have the area between my upper thighs and belly button excised altogether. I called Dr. B's number, they were closed because of the holiday, but I got a call back from the doctor on call (very nice man, Dr. Johnson). He was extremely sympathetic and told me that my best bet was to take my pain meds and some ibuprofen...which I let him know I could not take because I am a bypass patient, and he suggested Tylenol but didn't think it would likely do much for the inflammation (Tylenol doesn't do squat for me anyway).

So, since Monday, I have taken one dose of my pain meds after going to the bathroom (what triggers the pain) and that takes care of it for the day. I attempted work yesterday but the 35-minute drive was awful, and then I couldn't comfortably sit all day. So, I'm working from home the rest of this week, doing some online training, and it's more comfortable for me to take frequent breaks and I can take the dose of pain meds and not have to worry about driving (or being stupid loopy at work).

I bought a bathing suit the other day. It was on sale from Victoria's Secret, and I thought "well, I might as well give it a shot, I'll need one anyway." I tried it on. It holds all of my loose belly skin in and if I do say so myself, I look pretty fit and normal in it. I think I look pretty darn good for almost 40 (next month). No shame this year wearing a bathing suit in public.

There was some sad news for me the other day. A childhood classmate of mine passed away unexpectedly on Monday. He was 40 years old and left behind a wife and 3 young children...the youngest of whom was just born in February. Yes...it really can happen that we die and leave our children without us...and it reminded me that I made the right decision to take control of my health and weight with my bypass surgery.

There was a high school class reunion for my class last year. I wanted to go and see everyone, but I opted not to go because I was so fat I didn't want people to see what had become of me. I'm sad that I didn't go in some ways...I understand completely why I made the choice I did...and I can't say I would do it any differently now. But I am keenly aware of how much life I didn't live being obese because I didn't want people to whisper about me, how big I had gotten, etc. I really don't ever want to go back to that person again. I've struggled with head hunger these past 10 days or so since I've been home recovering. I haven't been to the gym, I'm out of my routine, and I'm somewhat bored...I know it's not real hunger...and I'm not aware of anything really emotional going on with me. I'm pretty sure it's boredom. I've eaten a lot of pickles this week. They are my munchy snack when water just isn't cutting it to knock out the head hunger. There are worse things to munch on. I just wish that head hunger went away forever. I know it doesn't get easier as time goes on. I have no illusions there. Maybe someday the struggle to fight the urge to eat when not hungry will lessen. That's not what I hear from other long-term post-ops, but hey, I can hope.

Weepy And Cranky And Bloated

2008-04-18T10:31:00.002-04:00

I called Dr. B's office this morning and left a message. I hate calling and leaving messages/asking questions sometimes because I feel like everything I'm experiencing is normal and they're just going to tell me that it's normal...and sometimes that just doesn't help me feel any better to tell me that. I am bloated, constipated, and getting crankier by the minute because I am full of poop. I have taken my Colace, my Benefiber, eaten a high fiber diet as usual, gotten 80+ oz. of water each day, taken my daily dose of Enulose, and then last night, added a dose of Milk of Magnesia. And still, I am bloated and uncomfortable and cranky. So, I called to leave a message asking at what point should I be concerned that stuff is going in but not coming out. The person taking the message said that it's because I'm taking pain meds. Well, yes, I know that...and I know they are constipating. I am trying to hold off as long as possible on taking them (no more often than every 8 hours). But shouldn't all the other stuff I'm doing counteract that to some degree? Shouldn't SOMETHING be coming out? When should I be worried? I feel embarrassed for calling Dr. B's office and leaving a message. I am just so damn afraid at this point of becoming impacted and passing a stool that is monstrous and hard. And the fear is starting to get to me and now I'm crying. I should just go to bed and sleep for a while.

The Bowels Of Hell

2008-04-17T12:53:00.004-04:00

No, seriously...my bowels are demons. Or at least they have their demons. They are being very stubborn right now and not moving things along...except lots of squeaky gas (think of letting air out of a balloon, the opening of which you're pinching very tightly and pulling taught...that's how gas is passing out of my bum right now...I know, I share too much). All of my usual stuff is going in...food, supplements, fiber, Colace, Enulose, and it ain't coming out. I think this is what led to my horrible 1 a.m. to 2 a.m. pain last night/this morning. It started out as a burning kind of pain all across my mid-section. And then, it turned into a full-blown doubled-over kind of pain for about an hour. I took a Tums to no avail, and so then I tried three Mylanta Gas tablets. My thoughts were "if this doesn't stop in the next hour, if I can take it that long, I'm calling the surgical number to see who is on call and get their opinion because this SUCKS." My throat is still really sore from the breathing tube used during Tuesday's surgery and I can't help but feel like this has just all irritated my pouch to no end. Then there is of course my very lazy bowel that even with oodles of assistance, refuses to move things along. And that in turn leads me to have somewhat panicky thoughts about what actually having my first post-fissurectomy/sphincterotomy BM will be like. Pat said I'd likely be taking Dr. B's name in vain. Amazingly, I did pass a very small amount this morning and there was ZERO pain involved. Not little, ZERO. It hurts more to do a Kegel than it did to pass this small stool. I think I'd gotten so used to extreme pain when I had BMs that I forgot they're not supposed to hurt. (They aren't, right?)

Anyway, I had to get on the scale with a package today (the only scale large enough to weigh it) and so I know that I'm up 4.5 lbs. of pure poop. Great. I hope it all starts moving along soon. The bloat alone is killing me. Ugh.

On The Mend

2008-04-16T08:40:00.005-04:00

Yesterday was my fissurectomy and sphincterotomy. All went well and I was home by about 2 p.m. resting pretty comfortably. Between keeping an ice pack wedged between my bum cheeks and the pain meds, I'm doing ok. Sore, but ok. I can only imagine the position I must have been in on the table though. My thighs feel like I did 200 squats or something yesterday, and my back is sore as well. I'm glad I was out for all that positioning. I haven't had a BM yet, and I'm hoping my body holds off for another day so that I can avoid excruciating pain. But, if it happens it happens. The pain is much, much less than I anticipated...I think I must have just become so accustomed to horrible pain in my rectum that really, anything else seems pretty mild in comparison. The anesthesiologist mentioned that my iron is low, not so low that they wouldn't operate, but he wanted to make sure someone was aware of it and following up on that. I told him we had upped it a month earlier...apparently that hasn't made much of a difference. I emailed Melinda about that today and I'll wait to hear from her on what (if anything) to do.

Zachary is a sweetheart. He feels bad for me that my bum hurts and that I have to wear an ice pack in my underwear (yes, he has asked what the heck I'm doing with the ice pack when I get it out of the freezer and he never sees where it's being used). He was also quite bummed that I get to stay home and he doesn't. He wanted to know who was going to take care of me. I told him I'd be ok on my own, and I'd just be resting. He wants to be home resting too. He is one very, very sweet little boy.

I think I'll be good to go back to work Monday and hopefully even back to the gym then too. I have to say, the OR staff didn't find my jokes funny yesterday though. Being tax day and all, I made some jokes about "if the IRS wants a piece of my butt, they'll have to stand in line." Not even a smile was cracked. Ah well.

The Things That Get Me Through

2008-04-12T09:28:00.005-04:00

On the OH RNY message board, the talk of stalls is pretty common. They can occur early on (like within the first couple of weeks post-op), every few weeks, months, whatever. I did a lot of reading of the message board before my surgery, so I knew that folks talking about and experiencing no weight loss for weeks at a time, despite doing everything "right," might happen. I had to make a decision to trust that my tool would work for me.

That was about the time that, in my head, I renamed Weight Loss Surgery to Health Gain Surgery. I think it's so easy to get focused on the number the scale reports, and the sizes we fit into. And hey, these are all really wonderful things to pay attention to...but they aren't ultimately the be all and end all of this surgery. For me, this surgery was about saving my life. I was afraid I would die before I finished raising my son.

In pursuing weight loss surgery (yes, that's still how I commonly refer to it because no one would know what I was talking about if I said I had health gain surgery), I knew that many lifestyle changes would need to be made...and they needed to be made for the long haul, not just until the scale said I reached a certain number.

So when stalls occur for me (and they do from time to time), I re-evaluate everything I'm doing. Am I eating and drinking as I should? Am I food journaling? Am I remaining accountable for what I put in my mouth and when/why? Am I exercising as I should? Getting enough sleep? (NEVER underestimate the effects of sleep-deprivation on your entire body...I know from first-hand experience that they are very vast and can be profound.) If the answer to above questions is "Yes, I'm doing what I'm supposed to be and I'm still on track," then I breathe a sigh of relief and say "ok then, my body is healthy and happy, and if the weight doesn't want to come off right now because my body is holding on to it, so be it."

I remember that I did this for my health, and not specifically the weight. As such, everything I'm doing for my body is contributing to that goal of good health. Ultimately, that's what really matters. The hot little body I'm getting as a result of my efforts is just an added bonus.

Dating Really Stinks

2008-04-10T07:12:00.004-04:00

For several years now, I've been on several online dating sites. I've had minimal success. Recently I decided to up my age limit for the men I even consider dating. The younger ones don't seem to be working out for me, so I thought maybe going older might be a good idea. Well, after corresponding with one for a couple of weeks, I guess my lack of availability at any time was a problem. Haven't heard from him since he asked me how much time I'm able to find for myself with my child. My son is with me full time when I'm not working, and on the every other Saturday for 8 or 9 hours that he's with his dad. So, my time solo is pretty limited...but I can arrange for a sitter and such when needed for a date or whatever. Apparently, this isn't good enough for some. Ok, fine, movin' on.

That brings me to the latest match. We'd been emailing for about 2 weeks and had lunch last Saturday. He seemed like a nice enough guy, though there were a few little things that I wondered about (little red flags)...but I have learned not to trust my own judgment (though I really am beginning to wonder why that is, because if I go on my gut at the start, I'd be much better off). This man talked about his ex-wife and her mistreatment of his daughters for 2.5 hours. And while I can sympathize with the difficulty and heartache this must cause for him, I really didn't want to hear about his ex-wife for 2.5 hours. And then there were the little comments about how all women are controlling. And he questioned me as to why I felt my son needed a "Big Brother". That one came home to roost in a big way after our date when he asked me out again. And I declined for the time he gave me...I was considering meeting him once more to see if maybe it was just nerves that caused him to talk about his ex so profusely.

Apparently, my unwillingness to bring my 7 year old son on a date with this guy the first or second time I've met him bothered him. I was told I am an overprotective mother, not letting my son share the company of an adult male that I meet, so what if he's not going to be there forever, I'm depriving him of the opportunity for strength, love, joy and independence. Wow. All that, because I said I don't introduce my kid to the guys I date unless and until I think it's going to be something serious. Holy cow...he summed me right up...NOT. I'll spare you all the details but suffice it to say that he put down my mothering, apparently thought that one date constituted a "relationship" that I was ending upon the first instance of me not agreeing with him, and he dissed my (not so perfect, but who's is?) family...oh, and he said I'm a little "broken." I had no idea I was broken.

Needless to say, I told him I was moving on and I would suggest he did the same. But can I share a funny part of our date (at least funny to me)? While we were standing outside, and I was glazing over as he talked, I saw my reflection in the glass windows of the restaurant. And I thought "wow, am I really that little?" Because I looked little...even to me. Maybe it was the dark glass...maybe it was looking for a positive in a dismal situation, but I felt petite. And it was a very cool feeling.

On another note, I had my pre-op testing this week. The woman who did my pre-op testing didn't see the part about me having had GBP surgery and when I mentioned it she said "do you mind my asking how much you've lost?" I told her it was just under 120 lbs. since I started Risk Reduction. She said "WOW! That's a whole YOU!" And it almost is. She said "and I don't mean this to sound wrong but, well, you just look normal...no hanging skin, etc." And we talked a little about how well my skin has fared and how exercise has really helped with good muscle tone and shape. It was really a very feel-good moment. And yesterday was my 9 month surgiversary. Very hard to believe it's been 9 months on this journey. It feels like it wasn't that long ago...and yet also feels like a lifetime away.

9 Months Post-Op

2008-04-09T12:02:00.000-04:00

It's hard to believe it's been 9 months. And I'm down almost 120 lbs. since I started this journey. Wow. These are my 9 month pictures.

A Good Busy Week

2008-04-03T09:39:00.003-04:00

I got some great news yesterday from the Big Brother Big Sister organization. They have a match for a big brother for Zachary. We'll get to meet him on Tuesday! I'm very excited for Zachary to have some regular one on one time with positive male role model. I think it's really important for him. Zachary seems pretty excited about it as well.

I've still been feeling really tired. I think my sleep is just garbage right now. I need to be taking my Ambien regularly I guess to get out of this wake-up cycle. And I think I need to put Tubby (our orange and white cat) in the bathroom at night so he'll stop scratching at the door and waking me up. He's a persistent little booger...I'd be happy to let him in the room at night but he doesn't sleep and instead knocks stuff off the dresser, the night stand, etc.

Work...well, it's not a feel-good place right now at all. That's about all I'm going to say on the topic for now. Too much expected, too few resources, and not enough appreciation. One of my main projects (that I am the only resource on despite numerous requests to management to change that) is going to come due for some QA right about the time I'm going out for my fissurectomy and sphincterotomy. I will NOT be coming back to work before I'm ready like I did after my bypass surgery. Ain't gonna happen.

I think PMS this month is kicking my butt. I've had lots of food cravings when I KNOW I'm not physiologically hungry. I've done well at keeping the cravings at bay, though I did have an extra treat/snack the other day when I just thought if I didn't accommodate the craving somehow I'd probably go ballistic and eat a bunch of junk that I shouldn't or more of stuff that's ok. It's still a mind thing you know...it doesn't stop just because we lose weight. It's easier to deal with the "stuffing your face" syndrome because physically, if I overeat I am in pain (so it's not something I do because I don't want to ruin my tool, I want it to be there for me when I need it).

I think I'm just in a rambling mode today. It's not that I have anything in particular to talk about...just feel the need to talk. And sleep. Sleep would be really good right now.

"Normal" BMI

2008-03-31T09:41:00.003-04:00

It's been since sometime in 1999 that I had a BMI that was in the "normal" range. This morning though, with my weekly weigh-in, I hit a BMI of 24.9. I'm still having that kind of "wow" feeling. What's more is I keep thinking "and I will always be keeping it in the 'normal' range from here on out." I know that folks struggle with regain and such...I'm not in denial about that possibility, but I am refusing to accept that possibility for myself because that is within my control.

It's Monday. I'm sleepy and tired. I stayed up too late watching the end of a movie and now I'm paying for it today. It will definitely take every ounce of motivation I have to get my butt down to the gym today, but I know that I'll feel better afterwards for having done it. I just have to stay focused on that. And it will likely help my energy level this afternoon too...maybe I'll even go down as early as 11 and then be done by 12. :)

I saw both of my neurologists last week. The neuropathy in my foot/ankle has improved/stabilized. I still have pain, but it isn't really keeping me from being active at this point, it's just a nuisance more than anything. So, I won't see that neuro unless I need to. My other neuro, for my migraines, I see him once a year at this point because things are pretty stable there as well. I still get migraines, but they have stayed much less frequent than they used to be. We talked about my dosage of the propanalol and he said I could try cutting it back to once a day if I wanted and see how that worked. What I opted for instead was to split the tablet in two and take half in the a.m. and half in the p.m. and see how that goes. If the migraines stay at the same level they are now, I'll stick with that dosage. They were both really very positive about how healthy I am now (one said "this is the healthiest I have ever seen you"). That felt really good.

Oh, and my bum surgery is scheduled for April 15th. Yes, all kinds of jokes can be made about pulling things out of my bum considering it's tax day, but I don't owe the IRS any money so we won't go there. :)

More Pictures

2008-03-27T20:14:00.001-04:00

I took these today...I just really liked the outfit and how I felt in it. I felt normal in size, proportion, body, and I felt like I looked casually good. I haven't really felt very put together sometimes, and I did feel that way wearing this. So, here are the pics. :)

I Really Do Love Dr. B

2008-03-26T18:38:00.007-04:00

And Annie. I haven't talked about something here because, well, it's kind of embarrassing. I've talked about it (what seems) endlessly on OH's RNY forum because I know from people's posts and replies that they too have endured what I've been experiencing for the past 7+ years. I have a chronic anal fissure (a tear in my rectum). There, I said it. And suffice it to say, it just bites. It was diagnosed shortly after my son was born (and probably came into being because of my efforts to push him out during childbirth). We've tried all kinds of non-surgical treatments, and it would heal, and then re-open, and heal and re-open.

When I was about 6 weeks post-op, I had a really bad bout with constipation. I saw Dr. Buckley and that is when I got started on Enulose syrup (in addition to daily Colace, 100 oz. or more of water daily, regular exercise, a very high fiber diet, and yogurt and probiotics daily). We agreed that the fissure couldn't be dealt with until the constipation was resolved. I'd like to say that I've been pretty "stable" with regards to pooping since that time. However, even with regular bathroom habits, the darn thing has re-opened after trying to heal at least 3 more times. About 8 weeks ago, it re-opened badly and has bled rather profusely after every BM every single day since. It has gotten to the point where I am in pain for 8 or 9 hours after a BM. If you can imagine what it feels like to pass shards of glass through your rectum, well, that's how this feels to me, or how I imagine it would feel since I've never actually passed shards of glass. So, I bit the bullet and went back to my GI guy. He wanted to re-evaluate the fissure just to make sure it wasn't really colitis or Crohn's. I had my third flexible sigmoidoscopy last Friday. My colon is very healthy...pristine, he declared. But, there is the problem of the fissure and the scarring that has developed as a result of healing and re-opening so many times. He referred me for a rectal surgery consult. The rectal surgeon he recommended is in the same practice as Dr. B. However, his schedule made it impossible for me to get in to see him in less than 2 months.

I realize that people may be thinking "well, you've had the thing for 7 years, what's 2 more months?" Understand a little about who I am...I will go as long as I possibly can before I seek help for a physical ailment. I'm a single mom without a lot of family support locally. The idea of having to deal with this and likely schedule another surgery, even a quick day procedure, is somewhat daunting. For me to have gotten to this point, well, I am already at the point where I just can't take anymore and waiting even 2 more months is inconceivable to me. That's 2 more months of passing shards of glass out my bum. No thank you.

Gratefully, Dr. B. was able to see me much sooner, and so I saw him tonight (thank you Annie!). He has such an easy manner; he explained what would need to be done, what I could expect for recovery, and of course he asked about how I was doing with my RNY and such. He talked with my son, and helped him look for what was "wrong" in the picture of the Highlights Magazine my son was looking at. You know, it's not just that Dr. B. is a doctor in this area who performs bariatric surgery. He's a great doctor. I was just reminded of all the reasons why I felt so confident putting my life and future in his hands with my RNY. He hasn't let me down. Ever. He's the best.

Can I just say how excited I am about the prospect of pain-free pooping? :)

Long Term Support Group...a Milestone For Me

2008-03-25T06:37:00.003-04:00

Since I first started looking into surgery, attending the Long Term Support Group was like this mile marker in my mind of how far I had come. Last night, I attended my first monthly Long Term Support Group, now that I am 8 months or more post-op. I have to say, I loved it. It was a much smaller, more intimate group, and I was pretty pleased/impressed with the longevity of the folks who are there still attending. I felt kind of silly mentioning it to Martha and Kevin later after the meeting (and yes Kevin, mentioning you by name is payback for you mentioning in the general support group that I have a blog here, I know you'll read it! :) ). But, well, this is second longest I've ever maintained positive eating habits and lifestyle changes. I've done it once before, for about a year and a half. I have it in my mind that my next "milestone" will be making it to two years and still living a healthy lifestyle. I know I can and will do it...at least that's what I keep telling myself because negativity will get me nowhere. Yes, I have those little thoughts that creep into my head about failing, yet again. But I have to remind myself that this is different, I have the help of the tool to get through those rough patches. I just have to remember to use it. We tried some new yummies last night that Melinda brought in. Some would be very dangerous for me to have around the house, but others were really nice changes of pace from what we have as staples here. Zachary loved them all too...always a plus. He's become such a healthy foodie. :) He reads labels, asks what's good in terms of nutritional values, etc. I'm glad he's learning early on about healthy nutrition.

Zachary and I pulled into our parking lot and as I got out of the car I said "don't forget your backpack" to which he looked at me horrified. The backpack had been forgotten at the conference room at the hospital. I thought he was joking. I looked at him and said "you're kidding me, right?" Nope, he wasn't. So off we raced, back to the hospital to hopefully retrieve the backpack which contained his markers, his notebook, his homework, his Nintendo DS Lite and his library of games. On our way there, he's crying and telling me how much he hates himself for forgetting it. So we had a chat about how EVERYONE makes mistakes, forgets things, and of course he asks when I ever do that. I do it all the time...could I remember a specific instance to give him? I think I created one that is very viable and probably did happen, but I think I do stuff all the time...so much so that I take it with a grain of salt. This little boy is very, very hard on himself. Sounds like someone else I know. The doors were looked to the building when we got there, and the tears started to flow for Zachary. But a security guard was walking by just then, and asked what we needed, so I explained the situation and he said "well, let's take a look and see." We went inside, and in the conference room on the chair, right where we had left it, was Z's backpack. :) All was good and right with the world, though it still took him a few minutes to settle down.

It made me think about how hard we can be on ourselves in some ways, and yet in denial in others. I can look at pictures of myself at my heaviest weight and feel like that's not even me...even though I can remember how it felt to lay down at night and feel like the fat around my neck was choking me, making it difficult to breathe and sleep. I could ignore or deny something so obvious as my eating and my size...yet be so hard on myself in so many other ways. I think the lesson I'm trying to take out of this experience is that there is a great need to be honest with oneself while being kind to oneself as well. They don't have to be mutually exclusive things though, at least I don't think so. I have counseling tonight with Pat, so I think I'll mention this to her as something to talk about.

The Meanness of People...Starting With Kids

2008-03-15T19:13:00.005-04:00

My son went to a friend's birthday party today at a laser tag place. And the packs the kids wear are really quite large and heavy...way too large and heavy for a 7 year old who is on the small side. Zachary is about 45 inches tall and weighs 41 lbs. He ended up leaving the first round of tag just before it was over. As he came out, I could tell he was fighting the tears and basically said that he just didn't feel well. I knew there was more to it than that but he wasn't opening up about it at that time. He chose not to go in for the second round of tag with all of his friends, even though I offered to wear the pack and go with him.

On the way home in the car, he asked me if he looks like he's in 1st grade. I said "well yes, you do." He said that he doesn't think he does, because he's so small. I asked him what on earth would make him think that, and he said that other kids tell him he's small all the time, tell him he's too little to do things that he CAN do. As he's telling me this, his voice is starting to crack and I know he's trying not to cry. Apparently, he's being teased at school in his class and in the after school program about being so small and little.

We had quite a talk about how people in general can be mean about the dumbest things, like a person's size or color or other attribute over which they have no control. We talked about how his uncle (my brother) was also really little at the same age and how he would likely understand exactly how Zachary feels. I shared with him how people have treated me differently based on whether I was thin or fat. And I shared with him the story of how when I was in 1st and 2nd grade, there was another little girl in my class who used to tease me and call me fat and tell me I was a pig until I was reduced to tears, and then she would go and tell the teacher I was crying and had no idea why. She tortured me for 2 years this way. The bottom line was that regardless of my size or weight, I was still the same person inside...my heart and mind were still the same, and I didn't treat people any better or worse or differently just because of the size of my body. So anything they could say or do to me doesn't speak to the heart of who I am. But to say it doesn't hurt? That would be ridiculous.

He is such a sensitive little soul. I want him to realize that other people who do this are really just not being kind and that the things they say have no real bearing on who he is as a person...his heart and mind are still just as good as anyone else's. How do other parents handle this stuff with their kids?

My mom and I used to have these talks about how much I build him up. She was always afraid that somehow it would make him arrogant or egotistical to be bestowing "too much" praise upon him. I told her "the way I see it, the rest of the world will do it's damnedest to tear him down at times, so it's my job to build him up enough that when that happens, he still stands tall and knows that who he is is wonderful." I believe that now more than ever.

Momma bears are fierce. Don't mess with their cubs.

My H&W Appointment

2008-03-13T16:30:00.003-04:00

We reviewed my 8-month labs and all is well. My labs overall look really good. My iron isn't "low," but it's on the very low side of normal, and because I've been feeling so fatigued we're going to try upping it to every day and see if that helps with the fatigue I've been feeling/fighting. There are some other minor things but overall they said I look good on paper. And after much discussion with Melinda about my bathroom habits and difficulties, we are upping my vitamin C to 1000 mg daily, as well as adding 50 mg of zinc daily in hopes it will help with some of my bowel troubles. Melinda also called me later and said after reviewing my food journal, I may want to back off of some of the insoluble fiber in my diet as that could be irritating the fissures I have. I've had them for over 7 years now, and for the past few months I have had daily bleeding (not just a teeny amount) and horrible pain with every bowel movement that persists throughout the day well after going to the bathroom. As Melinda and I both agreed that "pooping should be a joyful experience that you just kind of go "ahhh" afterwards," what I'm experiencing will just not cut it long term. I've had enough of this. So, we agreed that I will try the zinc and vitamin C, as well as backing off the insoluble fiber, and if that means needing to use the Enulose syrup daily for a little while to get these things to heal, so be it. I also have a call in to the GI guy I saw many years ago who first diagnosed the fissures to see what he suggests. I just really have had enough of the pain and bleeding.

We took measurements today and both Melinda and Ellen were very happy with my progress. My next appointment with them is scheduled for 4 months from now...so I'll be just over a year out then. It's hard for me to believe just how quickly these past 8 months (heck, the past year since I started risk reduction) have gone. I don't remember all of the numbers, but I've lost I believe somewhere around 25 to 30 inches between my hips and waist, my body fat percentage is obviously down significantly (it was 28 something today, and I can't remember what it was when I was there in January 2007, but I think it was in the upper 40s). Without shoes on, I weighed 139.1 on their scale.

Strangely enough, after such a good visit I feel like I should feel really good...and I do. But in all honesty, the fatigue I'm feeling today is just way too much. I have felt ready for bed since I got up this morning. I hope to get to bed early tonight. I know I've been dreaming a lot lately and last night's dreams were not particularly pleasant.

You know what really makes me laugh? People who look at me and say "guys must be pounding down your door." Um, nope, they aren't. And I'm very frustrated by that. And sad about it. Makes me wonder just what is wrong with me that I don't attract potential partners. I haven't been asked out on a single date since my surgery. Not that it should have changed everything in my world, but I would have hoped that my more "normal" body size and shape would at least not deter men from approaching me. I wonder sometimes if I will just be alone/partnerless the rest of my life. I think I could certainly handle that...but it would make me very sad.

I've always thought that was something inherently unlovable/unpartnerable about me. Over the years I've gotten lots of reassurance from people I trust and respect that no, there's nothing inherently wrong with me. But for me, it's like "the proof is in the pudding." And for me, there is no pudding, and there is no proof. I've heard "it will happen when you least expect it," I've heard "when you aren't looking," or "stop looking or trying so hard." Let me just say, I've tried it from every approach and I find it a miracle sometimes that I ever met someone and lived with him and conceived a child with him...it shocks me that someone apparently wanted to be with me even that long. Yeah, I guess today I'm down on the whole topic of dating and men. I don't always feel this way. But lately it's wearing thin. I want to enjoy my life, I want to be out and active and doing things with old and new friends alike...and I am doing that as much as possible. But in some ways, the dating ways, I feel incredibly stagnant. I think regular nookie would do wonders for my mood. :)

Silly Excited

2008-03-12T06:51:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I feel ridiculously silly about this, but I get really excited for my visits with Melinda and Ellen at Heart and Wellness. They are both positive, understanding people who know what I've been through physically and emotionally and they help me keep a great perspective. They're also a huge source of support and positive reinforcement for all I've been doing and working on. I guess in many ways I'm still just an approval junkie and I thrive on getting their approval when I know I've been doing what I should be doing. It's nice to get those kudos...I need them and they give them. I'm also pretty eager to review my labs and hopefully get some insight into the fatigue I've been feeling. If there's some way I can adjust my eating, supplements or routine that will help, I'm all for that. I honestly feel like I could just sleep all the time lately. Maybe it's winter blahs, but I think it may be a little more than that. We'll see.

I'm also really glad it's "hump" day. Work has been a little trying this week. As my boss put it yesterday, I've been the "rubber band" this week in terms of changing priorities. From the time I walked in Monday morning and a coworker asked me what I was working on, A or B, and I said neither because I didn't know about either and was just learning then that A and B were competing priorities, to yesterday when we had our staff meeting where more venting went down about lip service from upper management, I'm ready for this week to be over. Really ready.

Tonight I take Zachary to see the new counselor. I'm feeling optimistic about that. I hope this is someone who can really help Zachary with some coping skills. Pat gave me some really positive feedback last night about how great it is to be addressing these anxiety issues with him productively, helping him get some coping skills, while he's young so it won't impact him as much. I hope she's right. I don't want him to have a childhood full of anxiety.

Stalls Are Normal

2008-03-10T06:33:00.005-04:00

It doesn't matter how much I rationally understand this, it still annoys me that my weight has remained unchanged for two weeks now. Yes, I know it's normal. Yes, I know that it happens.Yes, I know that others have experienced way more stalls than I have during the course of 8 months so I shouldn't complain. But here I am, complaining anyway, reminding myself to "stay the course" and that the scale will start moving again. I also have to remind myself that if I didn't lose another pound from here on out, I've done amazingly well (repeat over and over Amy, over and over). Yesterday was my 8 month surgiversary. Even that is hard for me to believe. It has been quite an incredible ride these past 8 months. Gotta try and remember that so that my day doesn't go into the crapper before it even starts. :) And here are my pictures from 8 months out...about 113 lbs. down since my consult with Dr. B.

A Few of My Favorite Things

2008-03-06T20:49:00.000-05:00

I have a few "favorite" places on the web since my WLS journey began. In addition to Pat Basile O'Hearn and my bypass buddy Annie (how did I get so lucky with these two ladies as my personal support???), the folks at Heart & Wellness, Dr. B., and the wonderful people I have met through support group, I've also learned so much and made some awesome friendships with folks through the message boards on ObesityHelp.com. Anyway, one such friend and I live in different parts of the country and so, we have different foods available to us. In chatting with her, we've decided to have a swap of some of her favorites post-WLS and some of mine. Things I can get here, she can't get there, and vice versa. I am so stupidly excited!!!! I can't wait to send my goody package off to her and to get hers. I have connected with some really incredible people as a result of my surgery...and I don't think that's something I ever would have expected to be a benefit but it has been. People who understand the feelings I had being obese, and people who understand my needs both physically and emotionally now, post-surgery. Another awesome place for food finds and reviews as well as and recipes is Hungry Girl.

I also have a few favorite food items post-op. VitaTops...love 'em (yes, I posted about them before in my yummy breakfast post). Along with those go fat-free cottage cheese mixed with a little Splenda and cinnamon. For butter spreads, I love Olivio. For a high protein, low fat snack, I simply adore jerky (turkey, buffalo and beef) from Trader Joe's. It's a lot less salty than others I've tried and just tastes better, softer. Fiber One products in general I simply adore. I am a huge fiber junky because of my very lazy bowel issues, so just about any bread or cereal type product has to have a high fiber content before I will even consider putting it into my body. I won't waste the carbs on something that doesn't benefit me in all ways. So I eat Fiber One Cereal every day with Dannon Fit & Light Yogurt. And I love the new Fiber One English Muffins and Chewy Oats Bars. They're my "selfish" little sweet treat that I feel zero guilt about. Another great tasting fiber booster is these Gnu Foods Flavor & Fiber Bars. The texture is a little strange sometimes, but the flavor is awesome. And locally, I love the Danvers Butchery and their marinated skinless, boneless chicken breasts. Easy, affordable, and great on flavor and nutrition. Yes, I'm becoming a brat that way. Oh, and after my chat with Melissa today, coffee. I was in heaven when I was given the go-ahead to have decaf coffee again. And so I started ordering from my favorite coffee company, 8th Sin Coffee. Loved them before, and still love them now...even in decaf only. I also really love the Smart Forme Bari 15 Cold Drinks...my favorite is the Wildberry Passion. I got a sample of that when I was in the hospital after my surgery. I have had a really difficult time finding protein drinks that I can stand the taste of and this fruity drink really works for me when I need it. I LOVE LOVE LOVE Peanut Butter & Co.'s Cinnamon Raisin Swirl Peanut Butter. YUMMM! Two cookbooks that I just love because they are focused on healthy eating and have nutritional info for every recipe are "The Food You Crave: Luscious Recipes for a Healthy Life" by RD Ellie Krieger, and "Recipes for Life After Weight-Loss Surgery: Delicious Dishes for Nourishing the New You" by RD Margaret Furtado and Lynette Schultz.

As for other things going on, I was able to speak with one of the counselors that was recommended to me for my son and we have that appointment next Wednesday evening. I liked him a great deal on the phone, and I think that he will probably be really good for Zachary. He and I talked last night as he was drifting off to sleep about how mommy used to get really homesick feelings too. And that seemed to surprise him but also opened him up a bit and he started talking about how he gets that way at school sometimes. I explained to him that this new counselor is someone who will be able to help him find ways to make those feelings better so it's not so difficult. He seemed relieved. I also spoke to our advocate at the Big Brother Big Sister Program, and she was able to connect with Zachary's dad. She was able to determine that he is very supportive of Zachary's participation in the program and so, he's now enrolled and just awaiting a match with a Big Brother. I'm very excited for him!

I Just Want to Cry

2008-03-04T13:07:00.000-05:00

My son has a lot of anxiety issues...primarily, separation anxiety. It's been an ongoing problem for many years. He saw a counselor for over a year. Just after the Christmas break he started seeing the school social worker weekly. The past two weeks he has ended up in the nurse's office at school because he's "sick"...but he's not really. So today the social worker and I had a chat...and she has spoken to Zachary's teacher as well. And it would seem that some days, he's fine and dandy, and other days he's anxious, preoccupied and emotionally removes himself from interaction with others in his class. My heart is breaking that he is struggling with something and I don't know how to help him. I got the names of some other counselors that I am going to follow-up with as they feel it's time for him to see an outside counselor again. I have tried so very hard to give him a better home life than I had...and yet he still has some of the same issues I had as a kid. :(

Monday, Monday

2008-03-03T13:06:00.000-05:00

I had a conversation with a coworker today who I just really enjoy talking to. We have these pretty deep conversations about the losses we've experienced (among other things). He has been incredibly supportive in my weight loss journey and one of the things we talked about this morning was about my thoughts last week with regards to my mom and my success and would I have been this successful if she were still alive. He lost his brother about 5 years ago to suicide. And so here it is, 5 years out, that he can vocalize a "thank you" to his brother for dying and relieving the burden from him and his mother. He is so much more content in his life because he was very involved in helping his brother with his depression and it was really quite an exhausting task. And without that burden he's been free to be content and happy and grow and explore other aspects of his life that he'd have never had time for before. There was actually a great deal of relief for me in this conversation with him...to know that it's not awful to feel this way and think these thoughts. That it's normal, that it's ok.

The school nurse also called this morning...by 10 a.m. It seems that my son was down in her office complaining of a headache and said he was sick all weekend. He wasn't. I had a fear this would become a more regular thing (his going to the nurse) after last week when he went to the nurse on Thursday and I had to leave to pick him up. No fever either time, and last time was a tummy ache. I am so torn most of the time. I was like this as a kid as well. I had tummy aches all the time. I wanted to be home, mostly with my mom. My mom traveled just about every week for business...she'd leave Sunday night and return home Friday night. We had a nanny that lived with us Sunday night through Friday as a result. My son has had me home with him day in and day out since he was born. I can count on one hand the number of times I've traveled for business. All of these years I thought that my anxiety and homesickness came from my mom not being around much. I have been forced to recognize that there is a much larger biological component to this than I ever thought. My son's experience growing up has been so much different than mine, and yet he still has these feelings. I really hope that he can learn coping skills I didn't have...I don't want him to feel the things I felt about myself growing up. And sometimes, my greatest fear is that despite my best efforts to stop the cycle of abuse and damage, I will have failed with the person I love the most.

The Weekend

2008-03-02T13:02:00.002-05:00

When my mom died in 2006, me, my brother and sister-in-law had to sort through and pack up all of mom’s things within 3 weeks to avoid paying an additional month’s rent. My mom had a lot of really nice clothes. She was a tiny woman. At the time, there was no way any of her stuff was even close to fitting me. My sister-in-law is teeny and petite like my mom, and so she went through most of the clothes (with my blessing) and decided what to keep.

There were many things of my mom’s (her furniture, television, etc.) that I didn’t specifically have a use for and neither did my brother. So with my blessing, many of these items went to my sister-in-law’s family (her mom, her sons, etc.). The television that my brother had planned to take (because I said “sure, go ahead, we already have one”—they already had 3) wouldn’t fit in the space that they thought it would. So, they decided to give it to his wife’s ex-husband. I was told about this after the fact…and it rubbed me the wrong way. Granted, I was told this on the same day that we went to pick up my mom’s ashes from the funeral home, and we were all supposed to meet there together to pick them up, and pick out our urns, and they got there 5 minutes before I did and picked up the ashes, looked at the urns, so when I arrived, they were all set to go. I said “well, could I at least take a look at the urns?” I felt like I had been completely left out of or bypassed on things which were important to me. Most of my mom’s things I didn’t really have a huge desire to have, but there were a few things that had sentimental value to me. When my brother asked me about a wicker basket my mom had (sort of like a hope chest) and I said that yes, I did want that he countered with “oh, well we wanted that.” And so I deferred and said that was fine, they could have it if they really wanted it, but please not to ever get rid of it if they tired of it…that before it was given to anyone else or disposed of, I wanted it. It came out from my brother that he didn’t really care about having it, but his wife wanted it IF I DIDN’T WANT IT. Well, I did. But in his mind, his wife wanted it and that trumped whatever I wanted. His wife was fine with me having it, but my brother wasn’t. And so that night my brother and I came to blows when he told me on the phone that they’d given away mom’s TV to my sister-in-law’s ex-husband. I told him that mom would not have wanted us fighting over stuff, and I wasn’t going to fight with him. It got uglier and uglier as the evening wore on, and my brother said some pretty hurtful things, and I voiced many feelings which I had always kept inside. He and my mom both have/had that tendency to fight very dirty…something that I aspire NOT to do. I actually have come to realize has been a huge source of my pain trying to stifle the urge. When I was younger, when I felt angry and hurt by someone in my family, instead of striking back I would turn on myself…and would cut. Yes, I was a cutter…among other things.

Anyway…things got really ugly and I told my brother that I didn’t want to ever speak to him again. We did eventually get things resolved, but it didn’t do much to further establish any trust I have in my brother as a “safe” person. Saturday night, they came over for dinner. And my sister-in-law had brought over a couple of coats and a couple of sweaters that had been my mom’s. She thought that I might like them now that they would fit me. Had she never offered, I would have been absolutely fine with that…the fact that she did though, spoke volumes to me and I was so appreciative. As she is handing me the bag of clothes, my brother is asking his wife “are you sure you don’t want those???” I winced inside because it reminded me so much of the earlier conflict and how I felt like I didn’t matter to my own brother in matters of my mom. I let the comment go because the bottom line is that my sister-in-law “got it,” she understood what it meant to me, and so there was nothing really to be resolved. But it certainly kicked up those feelings again of not mattering to the people I think I should matter the most to.

Oh, and dinner Saturday night? I overcooked dinner in the Crock-pot…how does one do that????? The pork was too dry and so two bites into it I knew I was done as it was stuck and about 20 minutes later I puked it back up. I think it’s been close to a month since I last got sick from something. It’s not a fun thing, but it’s weirdly reassuring that my stoma is still apparently quite intact. And later this week I will have my 8 month labs drawn. I’m actually eager to see how they are the following week with Heart and Wellness.

My Story....Why I'm Starting This Blog

2008-03-01T15:08:00.003-05:00

I'm a 39-year-old single mom to the most incredible and awesome 7 year old little boy...he is the best thing that has ever happened to me! Yes, I'm smitten with him. :)

I am starting this blog today in order to share the story of my gastric bypass surgery, which took place in July of 2007. I have kept a journal and taken photos throughout the months pre- and post-surgery, and want to share them in case anyone finds the information here helpful. So the first part of my blog is retrospective, as I pulled entries from email and my journal, and then the blog switches to real-time of my ongoing journey.

Me in the summer of 2004 in the pink shirt. Blech. And I gained another 40 to 50 lbs. from this picture before I started pursuing weight loss surgery. The striped shirt picture was taken in December of 2006. I had started the process of preparing for surgery...questionnaires completed, gathering medical history, attended the first of two info sessions, and I had my surgical consult. I'm about 254 lbs. in this picture. Lastly, the black and white picture is about 6 weeks into the Risk Reduction Program in April of 2007. I had lost about 10 lbs. from my highest weight.
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I've battled my weight since puberty, which kicked in early for me around age 8. I never thought anything about my weight, or what I ate until one summer when visiting with my grandparents and cousins in Texas. My grandmother cooked the most wonderful, fried southern foods...and all of us kids just gobbled them up. One afternoon as I was sitting down to some homemade French fries with my cousins, one of my boy cousins said "don't eat too much Texas food." I had no idea what he meant or what he was talking about. All of my cousins laughed. Apparently my mother, who was always concerned with weight, had forewarned my grandmother that she didn't want my eating to be uncontrolled. My grandmother took this to mean that if I ate too much and gained weight, my parents wouldn't allow me to visit with them again. All the cousins and rest of the family knew of this preoccupation with my food habits and weight...I was apparently the only oblivious one. In her fear, my grandmother monitored my weight by putting me on her scale every morning to make sure I hadn't gained. And so it began...my self-consciousness about my body, what I ate, etc. Early puberty and the curves that go with it by 5th grade didn't help either. By middle school, I had become anorexic, and into high school I added bulimia to the list. I also became a much more withdrawn and depressed teen...home life was very turbulent for many reasons and I didn't really care all that much for my life.

I graduated high school, worked full-time at a major university in NYC and went to nursing school part-time. I joined Weight Watchers for the first time when I was 19. I did really well and lost 38 lbs. in a healthy way...for the first time in my life. Shortly after becoming a Lifetime Member, the urges to binge started taking over again. And I battled with losing and gaining and losing and gaining. And then a few months after that began, my father passed away from Multiple Sclerosis. I hadn't seen him or spoken to him in 4 years (long story but his much younger wife was threatened by me and was pretty verbally abusive, so I stayed away). I was pretty consumed with guilt and depression. As a result, I ended up hospitalized for my depression and I spent a good bit of time inpatient trying to get my life together. When I was 22, I was out on my own, working, and living with my significant other (we married, and divorced, unable to sustain a relationship because his own addictions were too difficult for him to overcome). By this time, I was 30 and life really started to get better and I started to care about myself again.

I had gained and lost many, many times. Many diets later, I bought Oprah and Bob Green's book "Make the Connection". And I began eating balanced and very healthy meals, and I exercised vigorously every day. I lost 78 lbs over the period of a year or so. For a while, I kept it off. Then, I started dating someone and I fell in love...and all of my urges to binge started to come up again. In the months we waited to close on a house we were buying together, he decided he didn't want a relationship (so he said) anymore. Truth was, he didn't want a relationship with me. I was 4.5 months pregnant with my son when he jumped ship altogether and hooked up with a 17 year old (he later married, had a child with, and divorced...he's actually on his third marriage now--he was married before he and I were together). Anyway...

I had my baby boy and I felt incredibly blessed to have this amazing little human being. I had no family near, but my mom moved up this way shortly after my son was born. And she really became his second parent. I gained weight, tried dating here and there but found my string of guys who decided (so they said) that they really didn't want to date someone with a child...too much responsibility. So I've been romantically alone for most of my son's 6.5 years. I lost and gained weight, and lost and gained weight...so many times.

In May 2006, my mother passed away very unexpectedly from a massive pulmonary embolism. It was devastating to both myself and my son. And I ate. And I gained. And the thought of another diet (and the thought of failing at another diet) was simply more than I could bear.

In October 2006, I saw a commercial for the Lap Band. I had considered gastric bypass surgery before but was too afraid of complications and malabsorption issues. I started looking into the Lap Band, got my information packet from the program I was going through, and I felt renewed hope...until I found out that my health insurance wouldn't cover that procedure, but would cover RNY. I had a lot of thinking to do...mostly about my son and how afraid I was that if something happened to me, he would be essentially alone. I came to the realization that I was going to either die from a comorbidity of my obesity or I would die trying to make my life better for myself and for my son...and so I decided to go for RNY.

I completed all of my consults, intakes and tests by January 2007. I was honest about my history and feelings every step of the way. I have continued in my counseling all these many years since I was first diagnosed with an eating disorder at age 12. I haven't had any kind of purging activity at all since my late teens/early 20s. The psych doing my eval felt that I still had too much depression and so wanted me to have a pharmacological consult. I followed through with a wonderful doctor who felt that my chronic insomnia contributed significantly to my depression and as such, getting me quality sleep would help tremendously. We tried various meds, and eventually found one that worked best for me. I began feeling much less weepy and more positive.

I'm now waiting to hear what the clinical team says about my case.

Forgiving Myself

2008-02-27T11:23:00.000-05:00

I can't imagine I'm the only person out here who has a hard time forgiving herself for being human and occasionally hurting people (unintentionally of course). It's a little more than 2 months away from the 2nd anniversary of my mom's death. When she died, she and I were not in a very good place...and knowing how much she was hurting because I was having to really establish and stick to boundaries that were seriously lacking in our relationship for so long, well, it has really eaten at me on and off for the past two years.

I feel a great deal of compassion for where she was in her own life and journey, though it didn't change our interactions. I've been spending a lot of time reflecting on this, talking about it in therapy, etc.

I have a great deal of guilt lately because I've been thinking that honestly, I don't think I would be nearly as successful with my RNY if my mom were still alive. I am a much happier person because honestly, there isn't anyone in my life who really makes me feel like a crappy person, daughter, human being. And some of the conflicts with my mom definitely did that. I feel tremendous guilt in saying that. My therapist and I talked about it a lot last night and she said "there is a difference between laying blame and calling a spade a spade...and what you're doing is calling a spade a spade. Your mom was a huge help to you...but there was also a really huge price to pay personally for that help."

I worry that my mom's spirit is hurt knowing that I feel this way...because I know she did the best she could...but that doesn't excuse the stuff that went down. My therapist was basically saying that I need to remember that her soul is not Earthbound anymore, and as such, it's more evolved (hopefully) and if she is able to be in tune with the things I'm feeling and thinking, then she has done the soul work herself to be in a place to hear it with more wisdom than she could have ever had while she was here on earth. And that if she isn't hearing it because her soul hasn't evolved that much yet, then it's not hurting her anyway.

It's very difficult for me to miss her so profoundly, and yet also be grateful for the kind of personal growth I'm able to experience without her being in my life day to day. And I know that sounds awful...and I need to work on getting past that.

I believe we’re here on this Earth to learn and to love and to experience things so our souls can continue to evolve and be enriched. It gives me pause for thought to reconsider the reasons I did the things I did in my relationship with my mom. And I know I did what I needed to do...I just still have regret that it caused her pain sometimes. Self-forgiveness is going to be a biggie for me to work on.